Hands and Face Behind the Voice
by Calecus
Summary: Pre-Hogwarts 1990. Harry Potter is recovering in the hospital wing from the car crash that killed the Dursleys & made him blind. Severus Snape later takes Harry in & helps him in the wizarding world. Can Snape find a way to heal his eyes? Pre-Slash. SSHP
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Summary: Pre-Hogwarts 1990. Harry Potter is recovering in the hospital wing from the car crash that killed the Dursleys and made him blind. Severus Snape eventually takes Harry in and helps him in the wizarding world. Can Snape find a way to heal his eyes? Pre-Slash. SSHP.

A/N: Nothing will happen between them until Harry is older (That's going to be for a long time).

**WARNINGS**: Eventual Slash (Male/Male). Hints of CHAN (romance between minor & adult). Mentions of Neglect.

o-O-o

**Hogwarts - June 19, 1990**

The air was still as the potions master of Hogwarts left the dungeons carrying a case of potions. He traversed up the winding stairs, passing portraits where its occupants feigned sleep and the occasional suits of armor that would scratch itself when no one was looking. Sunlight filtered through the glass pane windows, creating arches of light in the corridors. Severus Snape always believed that Hogwarts was at its most splendid during daybreak, and he often enjoyed the quiet solitude when everyone else was still in bed.

The walk from the dungeons to the hospital wing generally didn't take more than a few scant minutes. This morning, however, that was not the issue as Severus strolled down the hallways. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought a few corridors were added over night by Hogwarts, which for a magical castle was highly possible.

He turned the corner and reached the entrance to the hospital wing. Severus stopped to stare at the large, familiar door and hesitated in disturbing the people inside. He stood there and thought back to the conversation he had with the Headmaster two nights ago.

The Headmaster floo called him requesting a private meeting immediately. No sooner had he arrived in the circular office, did Albus asked him to sit in the arm chair with a serious expression. From there, Dumbledore dove right into the conversation.

"Severus," said Albus, "there has been an incident that I never thought possible... earlier today, I received grave news from Arabella."

The potions master was silent as he fixed his gaze on Dumbledore. Severus was suddenly aware that the Headmaster appeared more tired and worn out than usual. He quickly straightened in his seat to prepare for the worst and hoping that he could handle it. Severus nodded his head in signal for Dumbledore to continue.

"Three days ago, Harry Potter and his relatives were involved in a car accident," Albus informed wearily. "Unfortunately, the Dursleys did not survive the impact and Harry..." The Headmaster closed his eyes and bowed his head down, as if he was in physical pain.

Severus stilled in his chair, paralysed with dread and horror at the implications. It was not possible. The boy was supposed to be safe there until he attended Hogwarts. He didn't realised that he had stopped breathing until he felt the painful tightening in his chest from lack of oxygen. Severus took in a large gulp of air before he decided to speak, but the ache in his chest lingered. "What has become of him?"

Dumbledore raised his head and looked at him. "The boy is still alive, but he did not come out of it completely unharmed..." Albus paused to turn his head towards Fawkes, "he has lost his eye sight."

Severus felt as if the world was tilting and that he was about to fall off its axis. 'No,no... not Lily's son,' he thought. His grip on the armchair increased, and Severus tried to clear his mind in order to listen to the rest of Albus' words.

"We were able to retrieve and transfer him to the hospital wing, where Poppy has healed every damage that could be undone," explained the Headmaster.

"Every damage but his eyes?" Severus questioned. He lowered his head so his hair could obscure his face from view. Visions of emerald eyes burning with life only to end up extinguished were thrust to the forefront of his mind. The ache in his chest throbbed deeper.

"The nerve damage in the eyes are too severe. Fawkes' tears can only mend surface wounds; if his eyes were bleeding then it could be healed easily but that is not the case," Albus said. "Regrettably, research and development in nerve regeneration are still limited. "

"There has to be another way - a spell or potion, I just need to look into it," Severus suggested desperately.

Albus sighed sadly, "For all the wonders and might of magic, there is still more we have yet to learn and discover. There are things not feasible even with magic, Severus. The healing of injured nerves or regrowth of an entire limb is not yet possible in our lifetime."

Severus felt crush by the revelation and covered his eyes with his right hand. "Do you believe there's a chance that he would regain the ability to see?" he asked helplessly.

"There is always hope, Severus," Albus told him, "as long as we live, we will always have that."

Severus shook himself free from the memory as Albus' words echoed in his mind. He exhaled tiredly and let his gaze follow along the empty corridors. The atmosphere that offered comfort a while ago now made him feel restless.

Since all the students were gone for the summer holidays, the castle should have felt more peaceful. There were no essays to grade and no detentions to oversee. Most importantly, no children to watch over. Normally, he would have relished in the freedom and privacy, but it was too quiet, too still...lifeless.

Why was the silence so deafening?

Suddenly, the door creaked open to reveal the elderly matron.

"Oh! Professor Snape," Madam Pomfrey said with surprise, "I was just about to come get you."

"It seems I have arrived on time then," he nodded to her in greeting and raised the case of potions. "These are the potions you requested for our patient."

"Thank you, Severus," she said while taking the case, "these will be most helpful in his recovery."

"Indeed," he agreed and glanced at her inquiringly, "and how is he faring, Poppy?"

They walked into the hospital wing, and he took this chance to look around. The same white pristine walls greeted him and the smell of clean linen hit his senses. The only note of difference was the curtained off area of one bed near the middle of the wing. His gaze lingered on the bed behind the curtain before they entered the nurse's office.

He sat near her desk where a set of hot tea was waiting. Poppy poured him a cup as she resumed their conversation, "He is in no immediate danger, and I did what I could for the lad, but I could do no more for his eyes."

"How was his condition then, when he first arrived?" asked Severus curiously.

"His condition was stable when he arrived the other day. However, there was some confusion at first from Mr. Potter when I was examining him, and I soon discovered why," she turned to him sharply. "He knew nothing of our world! Nothing at all! The Dursleys have kept the knowledge of the wizarding world from him, and Albus had to be the one to explain everything to the poor boy."

"Potter didn't know that he's a wizard?" he asked in shock and anger. It appeared that Dumbledore didn't disclose everything to him that night.

She shook her head. "No, he didn't. I can't even begin to imagine how Mr. Potter must be feeling. To lose his remaining family and eye sight, and now this," Pomfrey sighed and stared down at her cup. "At least he is safe now."

Severus wasn't sure if she was trying to console herself or him. He took a sip of his tea wondering how surreal this must be for Potter. To discover another world and to know that there are others like him - to know _magic_. The potions master was surprised that he was upset for Potter, but then again, Lily found out much earlier that she was a witch. Despite what he felt for James Potter, the boy deserved at least that much.

Pomfrey pulled open the drawer in the desk and took out a few parchments. "I will have to consult with the eye specialists at Saint Mungos today as soon as possible. They are known for their skills, and I'm ashamed to admit my lack of knowledge in this," Poppy confessed. "Hopefully, they will be able to find a way to heal his eyes."

She refilled her tea cup and looked at him. Poppy seemed uncertain in speaking about something, which was abnormal for her. He arched an eyebrow, indicating that he was waiting and she huffed loudly.

"Severus, will you mind staying here with Potter until I come back from Mungos?" Pomfrey asked. At the look he gave her, she added, "It will only be for a few hours, and I wouldn't have asked if I didn't know you were free today."

It was true. He only needed to brew the potions for Potter, and he was finished with those last night. However, that did not mean that he wished to spend his time watching over the boy.

"You just need to be there when he wakes up and give him the potions. He was asleep all of yesterday and will be resting mostly today to recover his energy," she tried to convince him.

Severus closed his eyes for a second only to see emerald orbs shining defiantly back in the darkness. Even in the privacy of his own head, he couldn't escape. The potions master opened his eyes again to look at Pomfrey. He knew he was going to regret this, but he agreed with a slow nod of his head. "Only for today, Poppy and after that I refuse." It shouldn't be too difficult to watch Potter since the brat would barely be awake to cause any trouble.

o-O-o

Poppy left half an hour ago and since then Severus had been sitting near the bedside of the Boy-Who-Lived. He couldn't help but stare at the wizarding child dwarfed in the wide bed.

Potter looked so small...smaller than a child his age should have the right to be. Potter's hands laid above the sheets and he was able to see how thin they were - too thin. The boy was also pale as the sheets, but Severus could tell that it was a paleness more from the lack of sunlight than illness.

The brat hardly moved in his sleep and if it wasn't for the slow rise of the chest, he would have thought the child was dead. He mentally cringed at the word and sighed tiredly. The potions master clasp his hands together and rested his chin on them while his elbows were placed on his knees. At first glance, Potter looked like an exact replica of James Potter - the same wild nest of hair and the same high cheek bones; the Potter blood bred true in this one.

It would have been so easy to hate the boy - to unleash years of anger and humiliation on Potter's son. 'But is the sin of the father that of the son?' he wondered conflictingly. 'No... the boy is still innocent.'

Severus shook his head, frustrated that he couldn't control his emotions better. His eyes narrowed as he tried to find Lily in the boy. Any traces that Potter might have inherited from his mother were subtle, but they were there if one knew Lily Evans well enough. Potter possessed her straight nose and playful lips that could tease and defend in an instant. How often had he been at the end of her tirade? He rather not dwell on that.

He was brought out of his musings when he sensed movement from the bed. The sheets shifted as Potter moved his arms; it seemed the boy was finally going to wake. Potter's eyebrows knitted closer together as his eye lashes fluttered lazily.

'Take your time, Potter. I'll be here all day,' Severus thought sardonically.

Eventually, Potter's eyes slowly opened and Severus was met with murky emerald orbs. The potions master's breath hitched and the pain in his chest returned.

Lily's eyes.

o-O-o

Harry didn't dream often or rarely at all. No, what he had were mostly nightmares of a green light that burned harshly and consumed him greedily. The terrors had been plaguing him since his early childhood, and Harry had learned to adapt to the feeling of fear the green light inspired. What he couldn't overcome, no matter how hard he tried, was the feeling of loss that followed when he woke up. It was something he couldn't forget or shake off. Harry believed that he was afraid of that more than the fear itself.

On the rare occasion when he did dream, it would usually be about a tender embrace accompanied by fiery red hair and eyes just like his own. Harry always felt safe and warm in those dreams - happy. He liked to imagine that the person hugging him was his mother and that he was truly loved once a long time ago.

Currently, Harry was having the peaceful dream again. However, this dream was turning out differently than all the other ones. This time he was being cradled by a dark figure while the person with flaming hair stood nearby. Strong arms enveloped him in an unsure but gentle hold, and eyes so black that it seemed to reflect the night sky watched him intently. Harry didn't feel unnerved or troubled around the intimidating presence; oddly enough, he felt protected.

The image of the dark figure started to fade, and Harry knew that the dream was coming to its end. He was reluctant to leave the soft security of the arms, but the the pull to the waking world was hard to ignore. His return to consciousness was slow and disorienting, very much like the time when he fell from a tree trying to escape Ripper.

When he was finally aware of his surroundings, Harry realised that he didn't recognise the comfortable bed or the smell of antiseptic in the air. He was about to panic until the sound of movement alerted him to another person near his bedside.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," a male voice spoke silkily. A voice Harry couldn't identify, but it sounded strangely familiar.

He managed to calm himself and turned sluggishly towards the person to his right. "Where...?" Harry asked groggily.

"You are still in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing," the man answered promptly. "Do you remember how you came to be here?"

"Um... some people came to get me and..." he gasped once he recollected what happened. "Magic is real!" Harry exclaimed and immediately flushed red at the outburst. "Sorry," he murmured.

"No need for apologies, Potter. You are correct on the account that magic truly exists, and I'm glad that your memory still remains intact," the wizard commented smoothly. "Madam Pomfrey is currently away to attend to other matters thus my presence in your company at the moment."

"Oh," he managed to sound out. Even though Harry just woke up, he still felt tired. It was as if his physical strength decided to go on holiday and left him behind. 'Like the Dursleys,' he remembered and was saddened by the reminder of his relatives. 'I hope they are in a better place now' he thought forlornly. Harry grasped the bed sheets tightly, the material giving him some comfort. "Will she be back soon, Sir?"

"Madam Pomfrey will return when she is finish with her business, so there is no reason for concern," the man reassured at his subdued behavior.

Harry tried to sit up and felt a large hand behind his shoulder supporting him when he suddenly realised something. "Who - who are you, Sir?" he asked embarrassingly. Harry hoped the question wasn't too rude since he had the feeling that the man would not tolerate any disrespect.

"I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner," the man revealed with a hint of a smile in his tone, "I am the potions professor here at the school, and you may address me as Professor Snape."

"Oh, um... nice to meet you, Professor Snape," Harry said, "and thank you for being here."

"Likewise, Mr. Potter and you're welcome, but I was here to deliver the potions for your recovery anyway. Speaking of which," he heard some rustling and clinking noises before something was pressed to his lips, "you need to take your potions now."

"Wha-"

"Don't worry, it's not poison this time," the professor said with amusement.

Wait, '_this time_' !

Harry hesitated in taking a sip and heard the professor clear his throat in impatience, so he decided to drink it than risk the man's ire. As soon as he tasted the liquid, he wanted to spit it right out. Harry wasn't sure how to describe it, but it reminded him of Dudley's sweaty socks that his cousin once stuffed inside his mouth - now _that_ tasted foul.

"Swallow it, Mr. Potter," said Professor Snape, "you still have two more vials to consume."

After Harry swallowed it, he dreaded what the other ones would taste like. Another vial was soon presented to him, and he was relieved to discover that the last two liquids didn't taste as bad as the first one. They didn't taste good, but he could handle the bland flavour over the first potion anytime.

"What were those?" Harry asked once he was finished drinking from the vials.

"Those were potions to help you heal, Mr. Potter," replied the professor. "The first one was actually a nutrient potion to provide you with sustenance as solid food would interfere with the other two potions at the moment."

Harry didn't mind not eating for a while since he was used to it. He allowed himself to relax back on to the pillows that were propped up and tilted his head in curiosity. "Potions...are they like medicine?"

"Potions, Potter, is that and much, much more," the professor murmured. "It can be use in all manners of human desires; the love from the desperate to the revenge of the wretched, and the greed of the poor are just a few of many. Certain combinations of ingredients could produce the most potent of elixirs to extend life or the deadliest of poisons to end it. In the right hand, it can create miracles and in the other, it can invite despair, " the man said strongly.

Harry was surprised at how passionate Professor Snape sounded. He also noticed that the professor's whole demeanour seemed to change - becoming more animated when the man began talking. Harry found himself captivated by this side of Professor Snape.

The professor released a small breath before continuing, "For example, the nutrient potion you just took contained a variety of ingredients when left alone are quite harmless. But if one were to add powdered wormwood and sliced shrivelfig, the solution would be so acidic that it would burn a hole through your stomach. However, if one were to include the essence of dittany to the mixture, it would actually lower the acidity to non-existent."

Harry hid the urge to smile as he listened to the professor talk fervently about potions and their ingredients. Professor Snape had a very deep voice, but it was smooth at the same time; it reminded him of flowing water. He never heard anyone speak so eloquently before and discovered that he liked hearing the professor talk. The man's voice seemed to wash over him, and Harry soon submerged himself under the dulcet tones.

o-O-o

"In the harvesting and preparation of the asphodel, you must remem-"

Severus cut himself off abruptly once he realised that he had been rambling on for a few minutes now. He looked down at his hands, berating himself. He was not one to spout idiotic non-sense nor indulge in such inane small talks. But somewhere, between entering the hospital wing to sitting beside the boy's bed, he felt _anxious_.

"Please... don't stop."

He looked questionably back up to see a yearning expression on Potter's face.

"I - I want to hear your voice," the boy whispered softly.

There was a breath of silence in the air between them before Severus spoke again.

"Why? I'm sure you must be tired of hearing me speak and this is doing you no good for your rest."

Potter shook his head. "No, your voice - it calms me," a small blush appeared on the boy's pale cheeks. "I like to hear it, please," he finished resolutely.

Severus stared at the child for a moment, his mind went blank on what to say. That was the first time someone has ever expressed their wish to listen to him speak, simply because they found his voice soothing. At the same time, a multitude of other emotions arose, the most prominent ones were embarrassment and disbelief. He would deal with his emotions later.

"If you so desire to listen, then I shall endeavour to comply to your request," the potions master responded quietly.

Potter giggled lightly. "Is that a 'yes' ?"

A smirk found its way to his lips. Perhaps not everything had to be complicated with the boy.

o-O-o

**Playground Near Spinner's End - June 28, 1972**

"Can you believe our first year is over, Severus?" asked Lily as she laid on the grass surrounded by bushes and trees that shaded them from the sun.

Their first year at Hogwarts had indeed passed. Good riddance too. And to think, only six more years to go. _Oh, joy_. Yes, he was shivering with anticipation. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed most of his lessons, especially potions. No, it wasn't the lessons nor the school that was bothering him - it was the people. Or more specifically, Potter and his gang.

That group had made it their mission to antagonize him. One would think that they had better things to do or would eventually grow bored and move on. But no, they were persistent and constant in their bullying. Wasn't he lucky to have such loyal tormentors?

As if they weren't enough, he also had his housemates to contend with. Most of them were annoyingly idiotic and the rest were viciously opinionated. The various times he spent with Lily in the library was his only reprieve. It was why the quiet occasions such as these, were moments that he cherished the most.

"And I can't wait for our second year lessons," continued Lily. "Charms and potions would be even better this year."

"I also look forward to another year of beating you in potions," Severus added teasingly.

"Oh, you," she swatted him on the arm playfully.

He moved to return the favour, but Lily managed to grab his hand. She wouldn't let go as Severus tried to pull away. Lily held his wrist firmly and dragged it closer to her face. Her grip remained strong as she examined his hands with the same gaze she possessed when she diced and tossed an ingredient into the cauldron. Now he was feeling uneasy. Just a little.

"What, may I ask, are you doing?"

"I'm looking," Lily stated.

"Of course, how silly of me. However, may I still inquire as to why?" he questioned with a huff.

"Your hands...I never noticed before...they look thin at first glance but they're actually long and kind of nimble," she paused for a second, "they're quite elegant, Severus."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Lovely," he said the word dryly.

"No, I'm serious," Lily soldiered on, "you have an artist's hand; you can create anything you want."

Severus pulled a small smile, "Then it is fortunate that I plan on becoming a potions master."

She chuckled, "Yeah, you have the perfect hands for that."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:Not mine. Belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed last chapter.

**WARNINGS: **Eventual Slash (Male/Male). Hints of CHAN (romance between minor & adult). Mentions of Neglect.

o-O-o

**Mcgonagall's Office - June 21, 1990**

Stacks of parchments cluttered an aged oak desk that resided in the middle of the room. The Head of Gryffindor House plunged through piles of important documents the Headmaster had conveniently forgotten to finish. 'How considerate of Albus to only push it on me during the summer holidays' she thought wryly. When Minerva was finally finished with the paper works, the parchments were gathered to be filed at another time, and she moved towards the fireplace.

She was about to floo to Poppy's office until a tapping sound announced the arrival of an owl outside her window. The window opened with a flick of her wand, and the owl flew in to drop a small package on the desk and quickly left. As she picked up the parcel, the transfiguration professor hoped it to be the new buttons she ordered.

Minerva opened the small package and instantly fumed the colour of her school house when she recognised the item. What laid innocently in her hand was a cat collar - a red cat collar with the name 'Mcgonagall' engraved on the metal tag. She disgustedly threw the thing on the floor and transfigured a quill into a dog to tear the collar to shreds.

She stood there watching, unsatisfied as the collar became a heap of ribbons. Once a year without fail, she would receive a package containing in one form or the other, a variety of cat toys and the occasional cat treats. The first time this occurred, a box of rubber mice was delivered that squeaked out _'Lick me, pussy cat'_. She remembered viciously burning them one by one as the little animals screamed a helpless _'Noo!'_.

Minerva believed them to be a prank from a former student since no child would actually spend their allowances buying such things. Albus delightedly thought that she had a secret admirer, but she knew better. The person who kept sending these _gifts_ was mocking her. If Minerva ever discovered the identity of the sender, she was going to skin them alive and hang them in the Forbidden Forest for the acromantulas to feast on.

The deputy Headmistress tried to calm herself since she still had to meet up with Poppy. She vanished the mess and reversed the transfiguration on the quill before grabbing the floo powder. Stepping out of the fireplace, Minerva appeared upon a very amused Madam Pomfrey.

"Well, you seem to be in a good mood," Minerva told her friend as she sat down for tea.

"And you seem to be in a bad one," said Poppy. "Did Albus dump more paperwork on you?"

"Something like that," she was still bristling inside and wanted the topic changed. "How is Mr. Potter doing today?"

The devastation Minerva felt when she heard of the accident was the same she felt the day of his parents' death. James and Lily were her favourite students, and for this to happen to their son was beyond tragic. Part of her blamed herself for not being more vocal against his placement with the Dursleys, but at the time, Minerva didn't know if she could have done anything more for the child.

"He is doing quite well considering what he's been through," Poppy informed. "Sadly, I can't say the same for his prospects of seeing again. The healers at Mungos have looked at his file and announced the damage could not be healed in any way they know. They suggest looking for other alternatives."

"They're basically saying that they give up," Minerva responded disapprovingly, "but I'm glad the healers at least have the confidentiality oath to not reveal Potter's information to anyone else."

"Why do you say that?"

A sigh escaped from Minerva, "The Ministry is finally aware about the situation concerning Mr. Potter, and Albus has been busy handling them since then."

"Oh my," Pomfrey replied with concern, "I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Yes," she agreed, "at the moment, they are keeping it hushed up, but it's only a matter of time until it's leaked to the Daily Prophet."

"Nothing stays private for long in the wizarding world," said Poppy tiredly. "Ah, I almost forgot. You just missed Severus a few minutes ago. He was talking with Mr. Potter for a while before he left."

"He was here?" Minerva knew that he came to deliver the potions two days ago, but she was surprised that he would be anywhere near Potter for more than was necessary.

"Yes, he's been coming back to the hospital wing since yesterday," Pomfrey said and smiled knowingly. "Severus explained that he was just inspecting if the potions were 'effective on the patient'."

Minerva shook her head in disbelief and snorted, "As if that man really doubts the competency of his potions."

The matron chuckled lightly. "Perhaps he was just worried about something else."

Minerva couldn't help but feel that she missed something from the conversation. She knew that Poppy enjoyed dangling information in front of her without really giving in. It was annoyingly similar to a certain headmaster.

"Is there anything you would like to add, Poppy?"

"Oh, yes," replied Pomfrey, "the weather has been lovely lately, don't you agree?"

The transfiguration professor mentally groaned. Yes, too similar to a certain headmaster.

o-O-o

**Hospital Wing - June 25, 1990**

"We spoke of the virtues from the four houses the other day, but I have yet to mention their weaknesses," Severus said from his seat by Potter's bed.

It was still difficult to look at the boy and not see James Potter. Though, with each new day he was able to see a glimpse of Potter's true self slowly budding open. There were times when Potter was shy and quiet, while on other occasions the boy could be quite forward and curious. Severus was intrigued by Potter's contradicting attitude. In truth, the brat was nothing like how he originally imagined him to be. Hopefully, the image of James Potter would become nothing more than a shadow as he familiarised himself with the boy.

"But what can be wrong with courage and loyalty, Sir?" asked Potter as he brushed his fringe to the side to reveal the lightning shaped scar.

"The qualities in itself are fine. However, there are those who uses bravery as an excuse to label their actions as righteous against others. Often, a person can commit selfish deeds as they believe themselves to be justified," Severus explained. "And loyalty to the wrong person can have ill consequences so you must use caution: place your trust in a person, you give that person a part of yourself."

Severus had learned that lesson the hard way. Through his life, he made many mistakes in decisions concerning the ones around him; most of them made in his Hogwarts years. Severus was adamant that Potter should know not to fall into the traps that most Hogwarts students ensnare themselves in: falling to the prejudice and stereotypes that comes with being sorted into a house.

"I think I understand," said Potter with a slow nod of the head. "Then what about Slytherin & Ravenclaw?"

"Well, with ambition it's easy to overlook people as nothing more than inconsequential to your goal," said Severus. "As for the pursuit of learning, it's hard not to look down on another person's opinion that you consider inaccurate. In such cases, superiority and arrogance can grow from both."

"So there is good and bad in all the houses," Potter stated, "but how can I stop myself from being like that?"

Pleased with the question, Severus answered, "Similar to that in life, a balance should be achieve and maintain. You must remember this: don't let knowledge isolate you from your peers, don't use courage to condemn those different than you, don't let your ambitions trample on a person's worth, and don't let those you trust ride on your hard work."

"Um, that's a lot to remember," Potter muttered to himself.

Severus smirked at the comment and thought, 'Just wait till your OWL and NEWT years, Potter.'

"Still, I think I might be in Hufflepuff," the boy suddenly said.

"Why do you believe that?" he questioned with both brows raised in surprise. Severus was certain that Gryffindor would have appealed to Potter.

"Well, I know I'm not that smart or cunning, and I really haven't been brave about anything, but I'm willing to work hard," replied Potter with his head lowered in embarrassment.

"You underestimate yourself and Hufflepuff, Potter," Severus told the boy, "if you truly believe that reason alone will put you into the Badger's house. Being sorted into a house is base on the quality that is prevalent and not on what you solely possess or lack. Indeed, you might just surprise yourself when you'll be sorted next year."

"Next year," the boy said with a note of excitement, before wearing a worried frown. "Professor, how will I attend next year when I'm... when I'm blind?" Potter asked hesitantly, clenching his fists tightly. It seemed that the subject has been bothering the boy for some time now. At that moment, Potter looked so alone in his uncertainty. A look he wanted to erase from the boy's expression.

"We are still discussing it, and ideas on personal tutoring and modifying the lessons were suggested," said Severus, trying to assuage the boy of his fears. "We will figure out a way to help you, and regardless of what happens, you will attend Hogwarts, Potter." No matter what, Severus would make sure of it.

His words appeared to relieve Potter as the boy unclenched his fists and quietly said, "Thank you, Professor Snape."

o-O-o

**Little Whinging Primary School - December 7, 1988**

The sound of low muttering along with crumpled papers and pencils scratching could be heard in the classroom. Rows of desks were filled with students writing away carelessly while the teacher walked about.

In the far corner of the room, a small boy dressed in ragged clothing sat silently as he finished writing. Harry placed his pencil down quietly and looked up to see everyone else was still working on their letters with a focus similar to his uncle when the man watched the telly. Harry decided to glance back down to re-read his paper.

Dear Santa,

I'm sorry if you are very busy but I just have one wish to ask. I tried to be good this year and did all my chores like Aunt Petunia told me to. I know that you can't bring back my parents so I will not ask you that. But what I want for Christmas is for someone to just love me. This is the only thing that I want and I promise to work really hard and be good. Dudley has his mum and dad his whole life and I have no one. They belong to him and I wish for someone to belong only to me. Please help me and I will never ask for anything again. Thank you.

- Harry Potter

He stared at it for a long moment, hoping that his wish would really come true this year. It was always the hardest time for him during the winter holidays when families would come together and celebrate. Harry usually looked from the sidelines as the other kids would smile and laugh with their parents while playing with the gifts they received. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have someone do those things with him or say a simple 'Happy Christmas, Harry'. More than anything, he just wanted someone to be there for him.

"Listen up everyone!" his teacher called out. "You have two more minutes to finish before the lesson ends. Turn in your letters to be mail out today and remember to write your name down."

At the announcement, all the students started to hand in their letters. He waited for everyone else to go first before getting up. As soon as he deposited his letter on the desk, the chime of the school bell rang. A herd of boys and girls immediately rushed out passed him, stampeding through the halls in chase of freedom. Harry ended up being the last one to leave the classroom while the teacher was busy tidying her desk.

His cousin was waiting as he walked out the door, and Dudley took this chance to stick his foot out. Before he knew it, Harry met with the ground in a loud thump, and his glasses skated across the floor. Poorly covered sniggers were ringing through his ears as he tried to find his bearing after the fall. He gazed up when a pair of over-sized trainers came into his blurry vision. Harry managed to identify his cousin's large form that was related in girth to a pig.

"Watch your step, Potter!" Dudley hollered gleefully and then waddled away with a group of laughing boys.

Harry sighed in defeat and picked up his glasses. Perhaps he should have asked for a new cousin.

o-O-o

**Headmaster's Office - June 29, 1990**

"I have called everyone here to discuss the issue concerning the guardianship of Harry Potter," said Albus Dumbledore as he let his eyes roam over the assembled professors gathered in the office.

Severus allowed his own eyes to glance at his colleagues. The remaining head of houses were also in attendance. Mcgonagall appeared to be distracted while Flitwick seemed curious, and Sprout looked worried. He observed that the other professors sitting around the table were the ones who taught most of the core and elective lessons. Even Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, was here. 'Well, most of his limbs are here,' Severus thought.

The only ones to be excluded from this meeting was Binns and Trelawney. He didn't know whether to be amused or relieved that the Headmaster had the foresight not to invite them. The memory of Trelawney divining his 'troubled past' from his tea cup one too many times leapt into his mind; he would settle for relieved.

"As you all know, Mr. Potter is left without a guardian. Thus, the Ministry has seen itself fit to assign a guardian for Mr. Potter," informed Albus. "The potential candidates are numerous, but I'm afraid not all of them have the child's best interest at heart. In the unlikely case that they can't find one, Mr. Potter will become a ward of the Ministry."

"Headmaster, if that is so, then why have you called us here?" asked Sinistra, the Astronomy professor.

"You see, as it is, we don't have any right to interfere in the matter-"

"But Albus, were you not the one to place him with his relatives?" the Runes professor, Babbling interrupted. Since Severus was sitting across from her, he was able to see the concentrated look she wore as if the answer to her question would solve everything. Oh, the gift of a simple mind.

"Ah, it is actually an obscure pureblood law. It declares that an orphan child must reside with his or her next closest, living kin," said Albus as he took his glasses off to wipe them. "At the time, I was the executor for the Potter's will. They only named one person as Mr. Potter's guardian, but since that person was incapacitated -" a snort was heard near Severus' left and a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'incarcerated' came from the end of the table.

"- the Dursleys were the only choice left for guardianship," Dumbledore finished, ignoring the noises from the staff.

"Is there anything else we can do then, Albus? Or can you at least influence the Ministry's decision?" questioned Flitwick.

"As I was saying, normally we wouldn't be able to interfere. However, I happen to stumble by chance upon an ancient rule concerning the welfare of orphaned students," Albus paused and smiled at everyone genially.

They were waiting for him to continue, but the Headmaster just kept on smiling and suddenly popped a lemon drop into his mouth. A few of the professors had a quizzical expression, wondering where that lemon drop came from. Severus didn't even want to contemplate it.

"The rule, Albus?" Mcgonagall reminded him curtly.

"Oh yes, it is very old, but it is stated in the Hogwarts Charter that a Hogwarts professor may become a guardian to any present or future students without kin," Dumbledore explained, "as long as the professor is able and the student willing."

"You mean to say that if Mr. Potter agrees, then any of us can become his guardian?" Sprout asked carefully.

"Always easier to take care of them if they're willing," grunted Kettleburn, and everyone had the notion that he wasn't just talking about children.

"To answer your question, Pomona," Albus said, "Mr. Potter's choice in guardian is dependent on whether the person is capable and if both party give their consent to such an arrangement."

Mcgonagall cleared her throat at that moment, and everyone focused their attention on her. "I would gladly take Potter," she confessed, "but with his current condition, he will need someone who will dedicate themselves to him solely, and I'm afraid at my age that I don't have the time nor the energy to look after him."

Everyone quieted down after that. Severus had remained silent so far, choosing to listen first before deciding anything. Could he do it? Could he be responsible for another life? Would he allow Potter to be alone without anyone to depend on? Just that thought was enough to firm his resolve, and he looked up at the Headmaster.

"I shall take him," Severus announced calmly.

Every head turned towards him in disbelief and confusion. He could hardly blame them for their reactions. The potions master has made it known of his dislike towards children and all things Potter in the past quite vocally. However, the staff still continued to regard him as if he just professed his undying love for nifflers and jelly slugs. Honestly, he was getting annoyed now.

"You will, Severus?" questioned Albus, who was the only one not surprised by his proclamation. Damn, does nothing pass by the old man unnoticed?

"I will," Severus stated firmly as he stared right into the Headmaster's eyes and held his gaze. Severus would not bulge on this; he would not fail Lily's son.

Albus seemed to sense the hidden strength behind that statement because the Headmaster soon nodded his head and those damn twinkling eyes shone on full blast. It was a sight he would do his absolute best not to instigate again as long as he remained Hogwarts' Potions Professor.

o-O-o

**Hospital Wing - June 30, 1990**

Harry wasn't sure if it was possible to be tired of resting but he was. Being stuck in bed with nothing to do all day - he believed - was bad for one's health. Another thing that Harry didn't anticipate about being blind was that it could easily lead to boredom. It was a feeling he knew quite well living with the Dursleys. Hours of isolation in the cupboard had taught Harry how to entertain himself or else go mad a long time ago.

Currently, the thought of magic and the world of wizards were keeping him occupied. Even now, the idea of magic was too fantastical and unreal that he sometimes imagined this to be one huge illusion induced by the accident. If it was an illusion, Harry wouldn't mind it continuing for a while longer.

The sound of the door opening and closing soon drew his attention. Firm but light footsteps approached his bed, and Harry was familiar enough with those steps to perceive who it was.

"Professor Snape," he greeted the potions master with a small smile.

The professor's visits brought an appreciated distraction from the dull stillness, and their interactions were surprisingly enjoyable for Harry. In his experiences, most adults would treat him as inferior to that of their notice while his voice never reached their ears. He learned that conversations with grown ups were best to be left short and precise. Somehow though, talking with Professor Snape was different. The professor seemed to truly listen to what he had to say. But more than that, Harry felt that he actually mattered in the man's company.

"Mr. Potter," the professor acknowledged, "I'm impress that you're able to discern my identity from hearing alone."

He felt himself warmed at the complement and shifted a little on the bed. "I'm still getting use to it," Harry murmured quietly.

"Hmm, I believe over time your hearing will become sharper," said Professor Snape. A chair scraping against the floor told Harry the potions master has seated himself. "I assume that Madam Pomfrey has informed you of your eventual release from her care?"

He nodded his head, "Yeah, she said that by tomorrow I can leave the hospital wing." The news elated his spirits, knowing that he would no longer be confined to one place. Harry was more than ready to leave.

"Have you given thought to what will happen afterwards?" the professor asked.

Harry opened his mouth to respond but then closed it in realisation. Afterwards. After he left the hospital wing and... then what? He had been too busy thinking of the recent happenings that he completely neglected his future - a future without the Dursleys. He didn't have a place to stay much less go back to. No one to help him now that he was blind. He was alone. Panic seemed to settle in his heart at the thought.

"A guardian has been chosen for you, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape revealed when the silence stretched for too long, breaking him from his anxiety.

Confusion soon replaced the nervousness swelling in his chest as he whispered, "A guardian?" He must have heard wrong since who would want him?

"Yes, a guardian, and the arrangement would only be official if you agree to it," the professor said intently. "You do have a choice in this, Potter."

"You mean, I can decide if I want the guardian or not?" he managed to question. This was a new and strange concept for him: the freedom in choosing a caretaker. This was something he had no choice in when it concerned the Dursleys. 'But that's the past now' he told himself stubbornly.

"Correct," the man responded evenly.

Harry concentrated on his breathing as it fought his grasp and asked, "Who is it?"

The potions master didn't answer him immediately but eventually said, "In the current predicament, I find myself unable to leave you. As it is, I would not be against the idea of associating more of my time with you in the future."

It took Harry a moment before he uttered out in shock, "Professor, it's you?" He really couldn't believe that the professor was his chosen guardian. Professor Snape barely knew him, and yet the man was willing to take him in.

"Yes," said Professor Snape. "If you will have me, I will do my best to provide for you in every way a child would need. Your well-being and education will be my responsibility: _you_ will be my first priority, Potter."

His heart was rebelling against him, refusing to calm down at the professor's explanation. Harry dared not hope, but he still had to ask, "But why? Why would you want to?" Deep in his mind, there was a strong doubt that anyone would want him - that he would find anyone that actually cared.

Harry had a feeling that Professor Snape was staring at him, as if debating about something before the man spoke up, "I want to give you what you deserve, Potter... what I never had: a family."

"Family," Harry repeated softly. That word seemed to strike his whole frame and dig inside his chest like nothing else had. Any uncertainty and hesitation appeared to dissolve with that one simple word. This was what he always wanted - what he always wished for.

'He's not like the Dursleys...' he thought in disbelief and hope, 'he wants _me_'. There was only one thing he could do in that situation once his mind was cleared enough to make a decision.

Harry nodded his head in acceptance.

o-O-o

**Godric's Hollow - February 3, 1981**

A sharp crack sounded to signal the appearance of a cloaked person in the empty streets. It was quiet in the small village as residents took shelter in their homes from the cold wind. Severus glanced around to ensure the area was secured enough before taking out a piece of parchment. It read: _The Potters reside in 17 Hollows Lane_.

Slowly, the air rippled much like the water's surface when disturbed, before stilling to reveal a small cottage. It was a two story building with flowers surrounding the front. The windows were nicely curtained, and the white paint still looked fresh. All in all, the place appeared to be very quaint. He hated quaint.

Not wanting to stand there any longer, Severus briskly walked to the front door. As his hand was about to touch the door, it opened instantly to show a smiling Lily Evans. 'No, it's Lily Potter now,' he corrected himself reluctantly.

"Severus, you made it!" exclaimed Lily.

"It's not that hard to find a house under the Fedilius Charm," Severus wryly commented as he entered through the doorway.

Lily was the only one who knew - besides for Dumbledore - that he turned against Voldemort. He never meant for her find out, but she happened to floo into the old coot's office when he was relaying sensitive information in his death eater garbs. Let's just say that it was a very interesting reunion. Since then, they had been meeting each other once a month in safe locations. However, this was the first time he has visited the cottage.

"Well, I bet that little piece of paper helped," Lily said. "Anyway, would you like some tea? I made it just a minute ago."

"Tea would be ideal in this kind of weather, thank you," he replied.

She lead them into the sitting room and gestured for him to sit down. Severus unfastened his cloak, placing it over the sofa before reclining back in his seat.

"I told James to spend the day with his friends since he's been feeling cooped up lately," Lily explained as she summoned the set of tea.

"Such a shame, and here I was looking forward to seeing him again," he said sarcastically.

"I see you haven't change since the last time I saw you," she said with amusement before adopting a serious expression. "How is everything, Severus?"

He took the offered tea and drank, thinking on what to say. "So far, attacks have lessened and disappearances have stopped almost completely. And anyone we believed to be targeted have also been relocated to a safe house," he finished carefully.

Lily pierced him with a calm stare, absorbing what she heard. "There is something else you're not telling me," she lightly accused.

Severus sighed quietly and said, "It has been confirmed that there is a spy within the order, but we don't know who."

Her hands tightened around the cup. "So it's true then. I thought it was suspicious how the death eaters always seemed to know of our movements."

"Yes, and now that we know for sure, we can try to single out the spy, but the question still remains: who can we trust?"

They were silent, each reflecting on their interactions with other people and whether there were any odd behaviours. It was hard enough looking out for known enemies, but hidden enemies were even more dangerous.

A loud cry suddenly punctured the somber atmosphere, startling the both of them. 'Ah, Potter's spawn,' Severus thought as he turned his head in the direction of the wail.

"Oh, excuse me, Severus," Lily muttered quickly and rushed towards the stairs.

He stood up, using this chance to look around the room. The walls were painted in a beige color that complemented the maroon furnitures. Toys were scattered on the large rug and colourful picture frames littered the mantle place. Severus' feet then took him to the moving picture that caught his eye.

He picked the photograph up to see an image of an infant laughing and playing with the water in the bath. Severus assumed that this was Harry Potter and that the other pair of arms in the picture belonged to the older Potter. At the sound of foot steps entering the room, he turned around to see Lily carrying her son.

"Sorry about that, Severus. Little Harry just woke up from his nap," she said sheepishly as she walked towards him.

"That is all right," he told her and placed the photograph back on the mantle.

"Oh, that one was taken when we gave Harry his first bath," Lily said when she saw what he was looking at. "He splashed the water so much that James ended up completely soaked."

Severus smirked at the mental image. "I'm not surprised that Potter has trouble with such a simple task as bathing an infant."

"Yes, without me my husband is just hopeless," she mocked sorrowfully. Lily then tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. For some reason, that look did not bode well for him. "Would you like to hold him, Severus?" Lily asked.

He didn't really want to touch the infant, but Lily had that earnest expression on her face that was always difficult for him to deny. Could he ever say 'no' to her?

"I've never held a baby before..." he tried to deter her of the idea.

"It's all right, I'll show you: here," Lily said.

Of course, when Lily made up her mind it was impossible to change it. She carefully placed the boy in his arms while correcting the position on how to hold the infant. Severus hoped he wasn't going to drop the kid; he wasn't that eager to go to Azkaban.

Lily took a few steps back when she determined that he could handle her son on his own. He felt awkward holding the boy and remained motionless as the kid blinked up at him in curiosity. Then the boy did something he never thought possible: Potter junior gave him a wide, toothless smile and decided to cuddle deeper into his chest. The nerve of the boy! Didn't the brat know not to trust strangers?

He forced a steady calm on himself, refusing to be bothered over an infant's actions. Severus shifted his arms a little to adjust to the weight of the child, and took this time to really look at the boy. Like all babies, the child was all roundness and softness. Even at this age, he could tell that Potter's traits would be dominant. But his eyes... his eyes were all Lily's. Severus stared into familiar emerald and fought the desire to smile.

He risked a glance at Lily to see her watching closely. She seemed hesitant, and Severus was confuse by the sudden change.

"Severus..." she trailed off, biting her bottom lip nervously.

He wondered what was on her mind. "Yes?" he encouraged her to continue.

She exhaled deeply and said, "If anything were to happen to me or James, will you watch over Harry?"

Well, Severus didn't expect that. "Lily, nothing will hap-"

"But if something did happen, will you watch over him?" Lily asked as her shoulders tensed with stress and worry. "Promise to protect Harry?"

He looked into her pleading eyes and sighed. Severus had made up his mind to protect her a long time ago and protecting her son now would not change his resolve but strengthen it. "I promise," he vowed, and Potter junior chose that exact moment to giggle in his arms. He should really learn how to say 'no' more often.

Her shoulders relaxed, and Lily graced him with a grateful smile, "Thank you, Severus."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:Not mine. Belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Thank you for all the kind reviews everyone, they really do motivate me.

**WARNINGS: **Eventual Slash (Male/Male). Hints of CHAN (romance between minor & adult). Mentions of Neglect.

o-O-o

**Snape's Quarters - July 1, 1990**

Rows of shelves, embedded in the stone walls, proudly showed off its numerous collections of books while the large fireplace vigilantly stood guard before the modest furnitures. Severus and Potter were seated on the sofa near a low table as the potions master discussed the young wizard's mobility.

He had just finished informing the boy that every piece of furniture was spelled with a cushioning charm, thus Potter could freely roam without worry. At the moment, he was explaining the use of the walking stick enchanted by Flitwick.

"Think of the destination you desire, and it will give a slight pull in that direction," Severus told the child.

"So it will help take me where I want to go?" Potter asked eagerly.

"Indeed. It also has a safety measure to ensure that you avoid anything that can trip or unbalance you," he said. Knowing the boy's luck, Severus considered that the most useful feature. "Now all that's left is for you to try it out and see if it works."

"Okay," Potter replied with a nod. Severus handed the walking stick - made from an ash tree - over to the young wizard.

Potter stood up and slowly walked around the sofa using the stick. Realising that he didn't bump into anything, the boy ventured further in the sitting room. The bright smile on the child's face as he turned to avoid the wall brought a similar expression to the potions master. Severus reminded himself to thank Flitwick on his ingenious charms work the next time they meet.

"Potter, it should be noted that you shouldn't-" the boy fell as his pace increased to a jog, "-run with it." Well, that was quick. Severus got up to help the youth.

"I'm fine! I'm fine," Potter exclaimed, standing up on his own. "Sorry, I got a little excited."

"Understandable," he said with a smirk, "your elation in being able to move around without assistance is expected." Once Severus confirmed that the boy was indeed unharmed, he suggested, "Will you like to attempt that again? Perhaps in a moderate pace this time to your room."

Potter's answer was another smile, and the young wizard quickly went off towards the bedroom. 'What was it about warnings that children never paid heed to?' Severus wondered exasperatedly.

With that thought, the potions master headed to Potter's room which was located across from his and right beside the bathroom. Severus entered to see the boy examining the clothes he had placed on the bed.

"Those are your temporary clothing that I have shrunk to fit you," he revealed. "I have sent your measurements to have new garments made, and by tomorrow, you shall have a new wardrobe."

Potter touched the cotton material one more time before setting it back down. The boy's happy demeanour from a second ago was replaced with a solemn look.

"I - I don't need a new wardrobe," Potter said quietly, "I'm fine with just any old thing."

Severus stared at the boy in confusion because he could tell that Potter was serious about not wanting anything new. To his knowledge, children were always demanding new clothes or the most expensive toys yet Potter didn't want it. What's more, the boy appeared dejected by just the mention of it.

He didn't offend the child, did he? Or was it something he said that made Potter uncomfortable? He thought back to their interactions but couldn't pick out anything abnormal that would constitute such a behaviour. Why did children have to be so illogical? The potions master could now feel the beginnings of a headache leaking in.

"Potter," Severus approached the child standing there as he clutched tightly onto the walking stick, "It is my responsibility to provide all the necessary expenses and that includes clothing. I've told you that I will care for you, and I don't give my words out lightly."

The boy's shoulders hunched forward in a self-protective gesture, a stance Severus knew quite well. "But I don't want to be a burden," Potter whispered sadly.

Burden? Where did the boy get such a ludicrous idea? Certainly not from him. Well, hopefully not from him. At least Severus knew that Potter's refusal stemmed from the boy's insecurities in the possibility of being unwanted. How such a thing was planted into the child's head, the potions master now had his suspicions, but he would have to look into it at another occasion.

"You are not a burden, Potter," he said adamantly. "That would imply that you are not wanted, and let me inform you of how wrong you are on that account."

The child's form gradually relaxed as Potter asked, "I am?"

"Completely wrong, Potter," Severus affirmed, "and I have no qualms telling you that every time you are incorrect."

The young wizard let out a small smile at that and grabbed the clothing from the bed. "Then is it okay if I wear these now?"

"Of course," he replied swiftly.

Potter's head tilted in question as the boy held the trousers up. "Um, sir, how do I put this on?"

o-O-o

**British Ministry of Magic - July 3, 1990**

Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the floo to the sight of wizards and witches bustling around like confused insects. Keeping the derision off his face, the Malfoy lord smoothly crossed the atrium. A swarm of people parted to let him through, and he inwardly smirked at their subservience.

He increased his stride as he passed the Fountain of Magical Brethren that paid homage to magical kind. 'More like wizarding kind,' Lucius told himself with distaste. The reality was that they were more divided than ever, and he detested the hypocritical depiction. 'Peace between our fellows is just a fool's dream,' he thought truthfully.

Lucius arrived at the end of the hall where the lifts were located, and he entered an empty one with only the handler inside.

"Afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," said the worker for the lift. "What level would it be today, Sir?"

"Level five and make it quick," Lucius ordered.

"Right away, Sir," the handler answered.

He soon exited the lift without a second glance at the man and walked leisurely through the corridors, passing offices in a hive of activity as they accomplished their daily duties.

Near the turn of the corner, he noticed two witches whispering loudly in the middle of the hallway. Lucius wouldn't even have bothered to listen if it weren't for the words 'potions master' and 'guardianship' that caught his attention. As he liked to be informed about all the events in the Ministry, Lucius soon disillusioned himself and silenced his footsteps.

He slowly approached the gossiping pair until their cheap perfume invaded his sense of smell. 'Ugh, if you can't afford to do it right, don't do it at all,' Lucius mentally sneered. One of the women turned slightly, and he managed to read the identification tag she wore; the words _Department of Child Welfare_ blinked back at him in flashing red.

"Are you sure that's what really happened?" asked the short woman.

"Yes, I was the one to file the papers myself," insisted her red headed companion.

"It's just so odd. I heard from my niece the man hated children," the woman mentioned.

"Regardless, with his relatives dead and leaving him blind, the Boy-Who-Lived is now under the guardianship of Severus Snape."

His eyes widened at the information as shock slowly overcame his rigid body. The news of Harry Potter being blind was unexpected and sounded impossible for a boy who was the survivour of the killing curse. The wizarding world would flipped its head if they ever found out. However, what concerned him even more was that Severus not only knew of this, but also became the boy's guardian. 'I can't believe he didn't tell me,' Lucius thought with aggravation.

"But you must not speak of this to anyone else. Officially, it is still a private matter," said the red-head.

"Oh, of course not," promised the short woman, "not a word shall leave my lips."

'Fat chance of that happening,' he thought. A moment later, Lucius decided to make his presence scarce when the witches began talking about fashion.

In a rarely used corridor, he casted a _finite_ to dispel the charms. He stood there silently as he replayed the conversation in his head. Lucius had to confirm if this information was true, and he needed to do it quick. The Malfoy lord swept a hand through his hair with a sigh. Life certainly wasn't boring when his friend was involved.

o-O-o

**Harry's Bedroom - July 6, 1990**

Green.

That was the only thing that existed in his world. A green light. Everything else was just a black emptiness that screamed out a terrible wail. The sad sound seemed to come from the edge of the nothingness, and it was useless trying to block the invasive noise. Harry couldn't see his body, but he knew it was there. He knew because he could still feel pain.

Without warning, the green light coiled around his body excitedly and squeezed with such a malicious glee that his heart almost stopped with fear. Harry felt it slowly tighten, crushing him. It was getting harder to breathe. How long has it been since he freely took in a breath? He couldn't even remember what air tasted like.

_Potter_... What was that? _Potter_... Who was calling him? The green light's possessive grip was loosening. Where was the voice coming from? Harry fought against its steely hold. He wanted to go to where the voice was.

_Potter... HARRY!_

His eyes instantly opened as he let out a quiet gasp. Harry immediately sat up from his bed, clutching on to anything within his reach.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and recognised it to be the professor's hand. The touch was reassuring and grounded him back to reality.

"Professor...?"

"It's all right, Potter. It was just a nightmare," Professor Snape said softly. "You're safe now."

Harry desperately tried to take in large gulps of air, afraid that he wouldn't get another chance. The professor's hand traveled towards his back to rub calming circles, and he concentrated on the soothing motions. It wasn't until he had his breathing under control that he noticed his face was wet with tears. Horrified, he quickly brought his arm up to wipe the offending drops away with his sleeves.

"Here, Potter," the professor pressed a handkerchief into his palm.

Once he was finished, Harry returned it to the man without a word. Now that he was composed, embarrassment flooded into him to know that the professor had witnessed such a pathetic scene.

"Do you often have nightmares, Potter?" asked Professor Snape as the older wizard retracted his hand. At the sudden loss of contact, Harry felt a small trickle of panic but ignored it.

He swallowed in an attempt to relieve the dryness in his throat and murmured, "Only once in a while, but it's usually not that bad."

"I see... would you like to discuss it?" At the shake of his head, the professor said, "That is fine, however, know that if you wish to speak of it, I won't be disincline to listen."

"Yes, sir," he replied quietly. Harry truly didn't want the professor to worry about it. Despite the man's assurance that he was not a burden, the idea had been rooted deeply in him since he was a toddler. Complaining to the professor was the last thing he wanted.

"Would you like anything to drink, Potter?" the potions master asked. Not wanting to bother the man any further, he shook his head again in the negative. Before long, he heard the professor whisper something unfamiliar followed by the sound of a chair being placed near his bed. "Then I shall stay here until you fall back to sleep."

With surprise and relief, he said, "Thank you, Professor." A sense of gratitude gradually seeped through to know that Professor Snape chose to remain by his side. He could allow himself to accept that - allow himself to be a little selfish.

He settled back into the bed as he shut his eyes and tried to relax his body. While Harry laid there, he couldn't help but think back to the nightmare. Though he was awake, it still seemed as if the green light could crawl out of the blackness any moment to devour him. Opening his eyes again to see that same blackness staring back didn't help diminished the fear.

He felt his chest constrict with his breath coming out in short intervals. Harry needed to hold on to something... anything, to know that he wasn't alone in the darkness.

"Professor Snape?" he really shouldn't disturb the man, but the surrounding darkness was suffocating him with a deadly grip.

"Yes?" the professor voiced out curiously.

"Um, may I... mayIholdyourhand?" Harry quickly uttered the last out in a rush, hoping with all his might the man had understood that.

"Potter, you have to excuse me, but I don't speak gibberish," the professor said with a dryness that could compete with a summer drought.

Apparently, he hoped in vain.

"May I hold your hand, sir?" he repeated quietly, the embarrassment from before nothing compared to this.

"You want to hold my hand," Professor Snape stated blandly.

"I think it will help me sleep," he mumbled unsurely, losing confidence. Harry couldn't believe he asked the professor that question. Of course the man wouldn't want to hold his hand! It was a ridiculous request to even consider never mind accept.

Professor Snape didn't respond for a while, and the space between them seemed to widen further as the silence grew. Oddly, Harry wouldn't mind if the darkness would swallow him in that instant - he had to wonder when his mortification was a greater concern than his fear.

"Very well, Potter," the professor agreed, "but only for a short time."

"Wha- really?" he asked with disbelief.

"Unless you've changed your mind-"

"No!" he cried out immediately before restating in a steadier tone, "I mean, I would still like to."

Amazed that the professor agreed, Harry rolled onto his side and stretched his opened palm out. Slowly, a hesitant touch met his, and he gently enclosed his fingers over the man's hand. For some reason, all his anxieties and terrors were hardly noticeable now that he had Professor Snape's hand in his.

The professor's hand was certainly bigger, and it felt strangely natural for him to hold onto the other hand. It was nothing at all like the meaty hands of his uncle that would haul him into his cupboard nor was it like the bony hands of his aunt that loved to smack him behind the head for any mistake. It actually felt very slender to him, but more than anything, the hand radiated a comforting warmth that seemed to flow into his own.

As sleep finally begun to claim his mind, he unintentionally breathed out his last thoughts to the man, before succumbing to unconsciousness.

"You have nice hands..."

o-O-o

Perhaps he was dreaming, but Severus swore that Potter just said that his hands were _'nice'_. The potions master was almost certain he misheard it, and he had been trying to persuade himself of that for a few minutes now. He was unsuccessful.

The charm he placed on Potter's bed alerted him to when the boy was in distress. It was indeed a useful charm that parents used on their young children, but one he didn't wish to have needed. To see Potter in the throes of a nightmare unsettled him more than he thought possible. The child did not scream out in fright, yet the silent tears were somehow worse.

Severus softly brushed his thumb over Potter's knuckles, remembering his own mother comforting him in a similar manner after a nightmare. He then turned the hand over and delicately traced the lines on the palm. Severus had never placed much faith in palmistry, but he wondered, none the less, what kind of future laid in the boy's hand.

With a sigh, he reluctantly released his hold on the youth's hand and stood up. The man lingered there a moment longer staring down at Potter's face. Relieved that there were no longer any visible tear tracks, he lightly caress the smooth cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Sleep well, Potter," Severus whispered in the silence and quietly stepped out.

When the potions master returned to his room, a sudden thought entered his mind that should have came to him sooner. 'Why didn't I just give him a simple Sleeping Draught?'

o-O-o

**Malfoy Manor - July 10, 1990**

High ceiling windows towered across walls richly decorated with paintings of old noblemen and green scenery. The crystal chandelier hanged above as it watched over a small group of four sitting at the end of a long table that stretched from one end of the room to the other. Its occupants talked softly among a bounty of food spread out lavishly.

"I hoped you enjoyed the meal, Severus," Narcissa commented.

"Dinner was splendid as always, Narcissa," Severus remarked, setting the fork down once he was done. "Thank you."

He received a letter from Lucius a few days ago inviting him over for supper. It was not unusual for them to meet occasionally during the week. They would often dine together and discuss the happenings in the wizarding world. What was unusual was the letter, since Lucius' usual methods of contacting him were through floo calls or barging through his fireplace uninvited (more often than he would like to remember).

She smiled with satisfaction. "Just remember to come next week, we've hardly seen you since the beginning of summer."

"Of course," he agreed easily.

Narcissa then placed her napkin on the table and stood up. "Come, Draco. We shall retire for the evening," she said, kissing her husband on the cheek and began walking out of the room.

"Father, Professor," Draco nodded in farewell before standing to follow his mother.

Lucius watched as their forms vanished behind the door. "Shall we move to the study?" his friend asked expectedly.

"Lead the way," said the potions master.

They entered the secured study with the fireplace roaring lightly on one side of the room. He sat in his accustomed seat as Lucius prepared two glasses of wine.

"How have you been, Lucius?" Severus asked as he accepted the glass.

Lucius reclined in the armchair across from his and took a sip of the wine. "Well, everything has gone accordingly at the Ministry, and there has been no trouble from any of my investments so far," Lucius replied. "I'm also planning on purchasing an owl for Draco."

"You're getting him an owl? I thought he wanted a cat," the potions master said, as he remembered Draco blathering on about the types of pets that he would like to receive.

"No, I hate cats; he'll be getting an owl," his friend informed. "It may be a year early, but I want him to learn some responsibilities that comes with a pet." Lucius paused a second and stared at a family portrait hanging above the mantel. "And you?"

"Just the usual potions to brew and research to study," Severus answered, watching the swirl of the red liquid in his glass.

"Hmm," Lucius hummed out noncommittally.

His mind wandered to Potter, who was staying with Pomfrey for the evening. The potions master wondered what the brat was doing at the moment and debating whether he should returned earlier than planned. Potter's nightmares, fortunately, were not a nightly occurrence, but he wanted to be back soon just in case. Severus stubbornly told himself that he wasn't being paranoid and that he was only being cautious; he had yet to convince himself of that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the Malfoy lord asked suddenly.

He arched a brow at the question. "What are you talking about?" Severus inquired.

"About the boy," said Lucius steadily.

He instantly stilled at those words. Severus slowly directed his gaze towards his friend, and he knew that lying would be pointless. Somehow, Lucius discovered the information before it was even released to the public. He really shouldn't have been surprised since this was the man who had ears and eyes in every corner of the Ministry. The potions master was just unprepared for it to happen now.

Severus swallowed heavily and set his wine glass on the side table. "What would you have me say, Lucius?" he questioned roughly. "That I have taken guardianship over the boy who supposedly vanquished our Lord?"

"I expected you to be honest and tell me the truth," Lucius responded.

"Honest?" he scoffed out. "When was the last time you've told the truth, Lucius?"

Severus stood up and walked towards the warmth of the fireplace. His form silhouetted against the fire as he faced the man sitting in the armchair.

Lucius' eyes narrowed dangerously at the implied insult. "Deception and lies my hands may have been soiled with, but none committed towards you," his friend said quietly.

It was silent as they both stared at each other motionlessly. The light from the fire reflected in those cold, grey eyes giving the illusion of ice that burned and blackened piercingly. Yet, it was in those same eyes that he often depended on.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he spoke, breaking the thick silence between them. "You among a few had our Lord's esteem and till this day, I know you haven't given up on the old ways."

"The old ways," Lucius sighed out with exhaustion. "You knew our way of life is becoming obsolete, and the Dark Lord was the only one who had the power to force the change that we needed to preserve our heritage."

"You also knew that I never agreed with the methods of attaining that goal," Severus countered.

Lucius placed his own glass down and folded his hands. "There is no revolution without bloodshed, Severus."

"And whose blood are you willing to sacrifice, Lucius?" he looked intensely into his friend's eyes.

Lucius averted his gaze to his hands and said, "You know that loss lives are unavoidable and sometimes necessary."

"I had no doubt that he would bring change to our world," Severus whispered as he turned his back and stared into the fire, "but at what cost?"

He heard Lucius' footsteps approaching him from behind, but he continued to look ahead. "I knew you were a spy for Dumbledore," Lucius admitted softly, "I knew the moment that Lily Evans' life was targeted that you would have done everything in your power to protect her."

Severus' head shot towards his friend with shock and apprehension. "Why didn't you say anything?" he barely managed to get out. "If you were to informed the Dark Lord, he would have rewarded you greatly."

"Because then you would have been dead," Lucius stated simply. "You believe I don't consider the lives that could be lost, and you're partly correct: I only consider the ones I care for," his friend said before placing a hand on his shoulder. "Despite our differing views, I still see you as my equal... my brother."

Severus knew that Lucius had tried to include him in family events, but he still felt as if he was an outsider intruding from within. He couldn't help how he felt and yet, a great whirlpool of emotions seemed to spill from his chest to know that Lucius acknowledged him as a brother.

"Furthermore, you knew from the beginning what kind of person that I am," Lucius said. Relinquishing the hold on his shoulder, the Malfoy lord returned to the armchair. "If I have to kill ten muggles to save one person that is important to me, then I will do it in a heartbeat."

He remained standing, just watching as his friend relaxed back into a comfortable position.

"Think what you will of me, Severus, but I do understand love and devotion," his friend claimed and pinned him with a serious look. "I value your friendship, and I intend to maintain it for as long as possible. Besides," Lucius added with a smirk, "Malfoys guard what is theirs viciously."

Strangely, that more than anything else reassured him.

o-O-o

**7 Wisteria Walk, Little Whinging - July 14, 1990**

Photographs of her cats dominated the living room of Arabella Figg. Bright curtains covered the windows as floral patterns danced across the walls. The hardwood floors entertained various balls of yarn while the cat posts situated themselves in the corners. Currently, she could be found fluttering around the kitchen, opening tins of cat food for her four feline friends as they prowled hungrily.

For over a week, Arabella had left town to visit her relatives, and the woman had been impatient to return ever since. What she missed most were her beloved cats and had made certain to leave enough food out for them before she went. Arabella's part kneazle friends were her constant companions, whom she trusted and confided in more than anyone else. They didn't judge her harshly or treat her with scorn because she was born a squib. To them, she was their everything.

Other wizards and witches considered her with either disgust or pity when they see her; she was an outcast in their eyes. It was a feeling no young child should ever have to endure. Arabella knew that the wizarding world would never accept her, and she had stopped hoping less her heart shrivels further. Arabella felt a bitter resentment for them and for her predicament. It wasn't fair, but she had learned to live with it.

The only other person to treat her with any respect as a squib was Dumbledore. She was grateful towards the man when he allowed her to join the Order of the Phoenix. It was the first time she ever felt needed and useful - the first time she felt like she belonged. It was why Arabella confidently agreed to stay in Little Whinging to watch over Harry Potter when Dumbledore asked her all those years ago.

A knock from the front door shifted her attention away at once. Arabella quickly set the tin down and went to answer it.

"Ah, Professor Snape," she greeted pleasantly, "come in, come in."

"Mrs. Figg," the potions master inclined his head and entered her home.

Arabella always thought the man had a very daunting presence and seeing the dark robes cascading from his body like black smoke as he appeared to glide along just reinforced that image. She noticed that the professor barely made a sound as he moved, so silent that it reminded her of a hunting predator. Yet when she looked into his eyes, it was the gaze of a man that bore great strength and heavy responsibilities. Her vision must be failing her because it uncannily resembled Dumbledore's for a moment.

Arabella showed the professor to his seat and she sat down across from him. "I remember getting your owl, and I apologize for not being able to get back sooner," she said.

"No apologies needed," Professor Snape remarked. "I understand that you were unavailable at the time."

She nodded her head in acceptance and continued, "From the letter, it mentioned that you wanted to speak about Harry?"

"Yes, I wish to know the relationship between Potter and his relatives," he said. "You are the only one who had any close contact with them when they were alive."

"It's true. The Dursleys often left him with me when they go on their outings and such," Arabella admitted.

"They never took Potter with them?"

"No, they said that Harry didn't want to go," she replied, "but I always found that reason queer since the boy clearly wanted to join them."

The professor frowned in contemplation at that. "Was there anything else odd?"

"Well, Harry was always wearing his cousin's used clothing and these hideous round glasses that were taped together," said Arabella as Mr. Tibbles jumped on the sofa to sit on her lap. "Of course, I asked his aunt about it. She claimed that the boy played roughly and got his clothes dirty while his glasses would break multiple times."

Professor Snape's visage seemed to darken as his eyes alighted in anger. Arabella thought it was directed at her at first but then understood that the man was upset about what she said.

"And his cousin? Did Potter's cousin dressed in similar garments?" the professor questioned stiffly.

"No, Dudley would actually wear a new outfit whenever I did see him," she said cautiously.

The potions master's glower grew further if that was possible. "Then how was Potter's behaviour to you? Did he seem like the type that 'played roughly' ?"

"Oh, not at all. Though his family warned the other neighbours that Harry was nothing more than a troublemaker, which is absolute rubbish. Harry is very well behaved and nothing but polite when I watched over him," Arabella insisted while she petted her cat behind the ears.

The man was silent as he digested the information. Then his brows furrowed as he asked gravely, "Did the Dursleys ever appeared resentful of Potter's placement in their home?"

Arabella leaned back in uneasiness. "I suspected for a while that the Dursleys were never fond of Harry, but they still grudgingly took care of him," she confessed remorsefully. Mr. Tibbles meowed curiously, and Arabella looked at him sadly as she stroke his fur. She thought of Harry and how the boy never seemed happy when she saw him. "It was like... Harry was an outcast within his own family," Arabella whispered in realisation.

Just like her.

She regretted not being able to help the boy more. In any way that would have made his life better. Arabella sighed despondently. "I'm sorry, that was probably not what you wanted to hear."

"No, it was what I needed to hear..." Professor Snape said evenly and stood up. "Thank you, Mrs. Figg, but it's best that I depart now."

"Oh, of course," she placed her cat down and also got up. "Farewell, Professor and please tell Harry that he's always welcome to visit."

The potions master nodded his head before apparating away, and Arabella truly wished the man luck with his new charge.

o-O-o

**Slytherin Common Room - September 9, 1971**

It was getting late in the night as a dark haired boy diligently worked, secluding himself at a small table. His concentration was solely on the parchment in front of him as a few students lingered about while the rest had since retired for sleep. The first week of lessons were over, and Severus had to admit the professors' proficiency in keeping them busy with essays. A sigh of annoyance slipped out when he realised the extra ink-well he bought had been left in his dorm room. Leaving his work on the table, Severus went to retrieve the item.

The Slytherin dormitory was not something he would describe as a bright and cheerful place. And contrary to most rumours, it was not dank nor reeking of evil magic, though it was certainly dark. It exuded an allure of sweet power and a taste of opulence that only the elite could savour. But most of all, the dormitory reminded him of the coolness of a shaded glade that provided shelter from the sun's judging glare.

Upon his return to the common room, Severus spotted a tall girl standing by his chair. He only had a view of the girl's backside, and observed that she had pale, blond hair that reached a little below the shoulder blades. Severus also noticed the finely tailored robes, and he assumed her to be a seventh year.

"Excuse me, miss," he said from behind the Slytherin girl. Her shoulders stiffened suddenly, and she slowly turned around to face him. Severus instantly recognised the Prefect Badge, and he was quite surprised to discover that the 'girl' was actually a boy. The older boy possessed a lean face with a straight nose and clear, grey eyes that were currently glaring at him.

"What did you call me, brat?" the Slytherin Prefect sneered out.

Severus' lips thinned at being called a 'brat'. "My apologies. It was a simple mistake which could have been easily rectified if you have chosen a more masculine form of hair style." Severus knew that he shouldn't antagonise an upper classmen and a Prefect at that, but he never took well to insults from anyone.

The eyes of the older boy narrowed in irritation. "You obviously lack the perception to differentiate between the male and female aspects concerning the manners of hair style if you have mistaken mine."

"Pardon me, for not wasting my time learning about fashion," the spoken words soaked with his sarcastic tone. Severus should really learn to control his tongue, but sometimes it seemed to have a mind of its own - such as this moment.

"Do you know who I am? I am Lucius Malfoy, and my family has a lot of influence around here," Malfoy finished importantly and arrogantly crossed his arms. "What is your name anyway?"

Biting the reply he wanted to say, he grounded out instead, "Snape. Severus Snape."

A sharp gleam entered Malfoy's eyes, and the older boy cornered him with a calculating stare that was hard to decipher but invited interest none the less. Severus held the gaze, staring defiantly back and refusing to be intimidated by the Slytherin Prefect.

"Not a pureblood name, yet I have the feeling you're not a mudblood," Malfoy murmured thoughtfully and then released a sigh. "Get off to bed, brat," said the older boy, with a careless wave towards the dormitory, "it's passed curfew for first years like you."

Swallowing his temper, Severus quickly grabbed his books and papers before turning to leave.

"Scrawny little twerp," Malfoy muttered clearly enough to reach his ears.

'Obnoxious idiotic bastard,' he cursed back in his head, brusquely walking by several housemates loitering around. 'Hopefully, I won't be seeing too much of him.'

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!

**WARNINGS: **Eventual Slash (Male/Male). Hints of CHAN (romance between minor & adult). Mentions of Neglect.

o-O-o

**Hogwarts Great Hall - July 18, 1990**

"Good morning, Filius" his fellow professor, Pomona, greeted cheerfully.

He smiled and took his seat next to her. "And one to you too, Pomona," the charms professor returned goodnaturedly as he reached for the pumpkin juice.

It was indeed a splendid morning since he had just finished the final layers of enchantments on the books that were meant for Mr. Potter. The books would actually read out loud whatever passage was indicated by a simple touch to the page's corner. These books were to help Mr. Potter learn about the wizarding world, and the staff agreed that those were crucial for him to know first.

When he told the child of this development, the boy was ecstatic and thrumming with the energy to read it. It was heartening to see that Mr. Potter had certainly inherited his mother's enthusiasm to learn, and Filius was determined to assist the boy in any way possible.

He glanced around the table as a pile of eggs gathered onto his plates. As it was the summer holidays, only the staff table was set out in the Great Hall for those who remained. Minerva was speaking to Albus with that stern frown of hers that Filius knew commanded obedience from her students while the Headmaster continued to smile absently. To his far left, Hagrid stuffed heapings of bacon into his mouth as the half-giant conversed with Kettleburn, and Filius could see the tiny pieces of meat masquerading in Kettleburn's hair. The charms professor felt relief in the fact that Hagrid wasn't sitting next to him today and roamed his eyes over the rest.

Some were involved in their own quiet conversations while others were too tired to talk at all in the morning. The only professor that was missing was Severus, whom he was looking for.

'It seems that Severus is eating in his quarters again with Mr. Potter,' he thought with interest.

Filius always knew that there was more to Severus than what the man showed. It was unexpected when Severus willing became Mr. Potter's guardian, yet expected at the same time if one considered the potions master's relationship with the boy's mother. He remembered them as best friends, constantly by one another's side, and sharing in their amazement of Hogwarts' magic. Those were innocent times before the war's hungry grasp had consumed any of them.

The sound of flapping wings stalled any further mutterings as the morning mail arrived. A small brown owl dropped the newspaper near his plate before flying off again, and Filius unrolled the paper to see the flashing headline of the Daily Prophet.

**Boy-Who-Lived Now Blind!**

By Nate Nektar

Dear Readers, it is of the greatest regret that I shall be the one to inform you that our beloved hero, the Boy-Who-Lived, is now blind. In mid-June, Mr. Potter and his relatives were in a kar crash that killed Mr. Potter's relatives. Mr. Potter was severely injured enough that his eyes were pronounced too damaged to be healed.

No known treatment has been found to help Mr. Potter regain his ability to see. It remains uncertain if this shall be our hero's permanent fate, but the immediate future does not look so well. However, do not despair my fellow wizards and witches, for at this moment, our hero is coping with the lost of eye sight bravely and is persistent in over coming this obstacle.

Furthermore, with Mr. Potter's relatives dead, the Boy-Who-Lived has been given a new guardian by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the charter...

The Great Hall was devoid of any noise as its inhabitants directed their attention to reading the Daily Prophet with such a focus the newspaper hadn't received in years. The stillness lasted until a small sneeze from Babbling blew their silence away, and that seemed to be the signal to ignite the discussion among them.

"Oh, goodness," Pomona exhaled with shock. "I thought the news of Mr. Potter's condition was inevitable, but the description of Severus as the guardian is..." she trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

"Well, this portrayal of our potions master is slightly different," Sinistra provided lightly.

A few of the professors nodded their head in acquiesce to the statement. Filius believed the section written on the guardianship intriguing since the Daily Prophet was infamous for its outlandish exaggeration yet it rarely spew forth such positive exaggeration. Not a lot of people would describe Severus in such a way, and he had a feeling that there was more underneath than what was revealed.

"What I wouldn't give to see that man's expression at this moment," Minerva muttered with a hint of mirth.

"What they wrote about Severus is quite curious," he mentioned. "However, it is also bewildering how the news wasn't printed out earlier than expected knowing the wizarding's world penchant for gossip."

"Yes, I have been wondering exactly the same thing," Vector remarked as she set the paper down.

A chuckle broke away from Albus as the wizard adjusted his hat. "Perhaps Severus has his own guardian watching over him," Albus hinted with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

Hagrid scratched his scruffy beard at that comment, wearing a dumbfounded look. The entire staff turned their heads in befuddlement towards the Headmaster.

"I know sphinxes that makes more sense," grumbled Kettleburn irritably.

Despite the long years since he has known Albus, Filius still found the Headmaster's quirks quite bizarre. It was highly speculated among the staff that Albus derived a sadistic enjoyment from their combined confusion and constant headaches.

It was also rumoured that the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes was from a magical accident in his younger days. Filius knew that it irritated Minerva to no end whenever she saw it. Yet the sparkle that eerily resembled the glitter of gold, strangely fascinated the goblin in him like an itch that wouldn't go away.

o-O-o

**Snape's Quarters - July 22, 1990**

Steam from the coffee rolled off his mug as Severus carefully tasted the bitter liquid. Potter sat across from him as the younger wizard finished the last of the porridge for breakfast.

His eyes bypassed the newspaper resting on the table, choosing to ignore it once again.

The Daily Prophet had been printing nothing else but the same thing for the past couple of days. If that wasn't vexing enough, it seemed that the whole populace were sending Potter and him 'fan-mail' on a daily basis ever since that article came out. Mountains of letters were delivered with such fervor and speed that the house elves had resorted to compacting the whole mess in a single room to be dealt with later.

Severus shuddered in disgust as he remembered reading some of the letters that he received. Words of encouragement and support was not something one should have to suffer through in the early morning. He quickly burnt most of them with an _incendio _when they first appeared, especially the perfume scented letters.

Just the other day, he was mobbed by a group of well-wishers in Diagon Alley when he was out on an errand. Being surrounded by middle aged witches as they praised his good will and philanthropic action was - he would admit - one of his worst experiences. And this included his first meeting with James Potter and Sirius Black.

"Professor Snape?"

Potter's soft question disturbed him from his musings, and he glanced at the brat. He was glad to see that Potter was looking healthier now compared to before. The boy's complexion wasn't as pale, and though he was still skinny, it wasn't unhealthily so. Three full meals a day along with a nutrient potion had definitely improved his condition.

"What is it, Potter?" he asked.

"Will it be alright for me to visit Hagrid today? He says that his crup is having puppies," Potter shyly requested with a tinge of excitement.

Severus knew he would regret introducing Potter to Hagrid one day. He reminded himself to have a talk with Hagrid to be selective of the animals on whether they were truly 'harmless' or not. The last thing he wanted was for Potter to be maimed by one of Hagrid's pets. However, Potter interacting with the crup wouldn't be a bad thing, as long as it stayed away from him. The potions master didn't need a mutt or some other creature in his quarters because the boy took a fancy to one.

"Perhaps a short visit will be fine, but that is dependent on when you finish your meal first," Severus answered conditionally as he drank the rest of his coffee.

"Thank you, sir!" Potter said joyfully. The brat immediately shoved a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, chewing hastily as if each bite would determine the outcome.

Severus discovered early on that it wasn't toys - not that he would purchase such things - that would make the child happy; it was actually the simplest of things. One particular incident was the first time he said 'good night' to the boy, which resulted in Potter freezing up with a wide eyed look, very much like a deer. Severus thought he had said something wrong until a moment later Potter was blushing furiously and eventually returned his partings with a bashful smile. To react in such a way, he wondered if that was the first time anyone had said 'good night' to Potter.

The sudden sound of smashing glass immediately drew his focus to the floor where the shattered remains of a cup laid. He surmised that it must have been unintentionally knocked over the table by Potter. Severus swiftly looked over to check his charge and was surprised to see Potter's face paled a few shades lighter as his breathing quickened.

"I'm sorry!" Potter cried out in panic. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident, sir."

"Calm yourself, Potter," he tried to tell the boy, "I can perceive that it was just an accident."

The young wizard shook his head, not listening. "I'm so sorry," whispered Potter, clutching on to the table with white knuckles.

His words didn't seem to reassure Potter at all as the child continued to apologise profusely. Severus searched his mind for a way to break Potter out of this hysterical state. His eyes soon shifted to the empty mug in his hands as an idea began to surface. He raised the mug a few feet above the ground and unclasped his fingers around it. The potions master watched its progress as it fell from his hand.

"I will clean it up," Potter proposed, "I'll just-"

The crash of broken glass interrupted the young wizard's words. Potter sat motionless in his seat, completely baffled by the sound of a second shatter.

"How careless of me," he said lightly, "I seem to have drop my mug." It wasn't the most elegant method, but it was effective.

The boy's brows bent in confusion. "Professor?" At least the young wizard was calming down.

"Mistakes are bound to happen, Potter. It's all right as long as you don't let it get the best of you," Severus explained. "Now, it also doesn't hurt that with a simple _reparo_, this can be fixed." As he spoke the spell, the fragments from the cups flew together and reformed back to normal. 'An unbreakable charm should be placed on it next time,' he mentally noted.

Potter nodded his head slowly in understanding. The young wizard was no longer hyperventilating and seemed to be relieved that everything was fine. Did the boy think that he would be upset over the whole thing?

"Since breakfast is over, I believe there is still the visit with Hagrid to go to," Severus reminded. This should take Potter's mind off of the incident.

"Yes, sir," Potter replied, though the boy remained in his seat. Instead of getting up, Potter shifted his body towards him, appearing nervous and quietly mumbled out, "Um, Professor, do you- do you think I will ever see again?"

The question was not unexpected, but he was hesitant on giving an answer. Severus refused to lie to the boy and create false hopes. Yet at the same time, he didn't want Potter to give up.

"Mr. Potter," he said, "presently, there is no viable treatment to cure your blindness, but that can not be said for the future. The field of magic is always changing and developing."

Potter swept the fringe from his eyes as he asked, "You mean that someday there might be a treatment?"

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "We have already begun looking for alternative ways to heal your eyes, and we will continue looking until one is found."

No matter how long it took, he would find one.

o-O-o

**Snape's Office - July 25, 1990**

Green flames blazed in wild swirls, depositing him from the fireplace. Lucius automatically directed his gaze to the worn-out desk near the corner of the office. Surrounded by precariously balanced books, stacked upon another as it leaned in a parody of stone towers was Severus with his eyes pasted to a large tome. It seemed that his friend hadn't changed much since their Hogwarts days.

"Lucius, would it inconvenience you at all to warn me when you decide to visit?" Severus complained, raising his head to glance in his direction with narrowed eyes.

'Hm, someone is a tad grumpy today,' Lucius thought dryly. The Malfoy lord seated himself in a chair on the other side of the desk as he responded, "Why bother when I know you aren't doing anything important."

Severus arched a brow that he swore was mimicked from him. "And how would you know that?" the potions master drawled out.

"Like how I knew that you would be in your office now instead of your quarters - instincts," Lucius said. He didn't tell Severus that he had actually checked the quarters first, but his friend didn't need to know that.

Lucius had finished his business early at the Ministry, giving him an opportunity to see what the potions master was doing. Really, Severus was the only person who provided any entertainment for him these days. Well, there was also Weasley whenever he would bump into the man and mock his poor state, but those meetings often got boring very quickly.

"Well, your instincts must be failing since I am occupied with research of the utmost importance," Severus divulged, closing the book in his hands with a snap.

"Oh? What are you researching then?" asked Lucius while he grabbed a random tome from a tall stack. _Moste Potente Potions _was the title on the cover. 'Now, what would his friend be doing with this little beauty?' he wondered curiously. This book contained all of the dangerously known potions that could maim a person's body irreparably and distort their minds in gruesome ways. It was truly one of his favorite books.

A small exhale from Severus told him how tired his friend was. "I'm trying to find a potion that can possibly regenerate eye-sight by adjusting its ingredients or procedure in different steps," Severus explained, pinching the bridge of his nose, "and if one doesn't exist, then I shall have to attempt in creating it somehow."

'Ah, then it is the Potter boy that has Severus all worked up for,' he realised. Lucius place the book back and gave the potions master a contemplative look. When Severus devoted his mind and heart to something, Lucius knew that his friend would extend himself until the end. It was like this with Lily Evans, so why should it be any different with her son?

"I assume this is for Potter then," he remarked. "Well, have you looked in other areas beside potions?"

"Perhaps," Severus replied vaguely. "Do you have any suggestions for this?"

A suggestion he had more than a few, but Lucius knew of only one method that would work with certainty. "Rituals," the Malfoy lord stated. "There might be a dark ritual able to help him. We just need to search for it in... questionable avenues."

"Absolutely not. No dark rituals, Lucius," Severus objected quite vehemently. "You know that there is always a price to pay - sometimes too high - in exchange for something in the rituals."

That was true. Most rituals required either a personal sacrifice or the life of a person possessing a specific quality. It was a misconception that virgins were the preferred victims. As if the 'pureness' of a virgin would contribute anything to the integrity of a ritual. Unfortunately, such rituals were made illegal since the 18th century when a wizard sacrificed his whole family for immense magical power.

But he digressed, Lucius still had a friend to convince. It was a valid method and with the right ritual, there wouldn't be any need for killing (which was a shame in his opinion).

"What if there is no other way?" he protested. "What happens after you have exhausted all your efforts and searched without results, and this was the only way that could bring his sight back?" Lucius leaned forward to meet his gaze. "Would you rob him of that chance to see again?"

"Don't..." Severus bit out before his eyes slid closed, and he took in a deep breath of control. When his friend opened them again, they were a storm of deadly calm. "Don't you dare question what I would do for that boy."

"I apologise," Lucius said sincerely, since he truly crossed the line on that one. "But will you at least consider this option? I shall look into various dark rituals that could restore the body in any way without sacrificing too much in return," he carefully persuaded. "You will have the final call whether to go through with it or not, of course."

The potions master relaxed his features slightly as he agreed. "As long as the final decision lays with me, and I will look through the ritual myself if you find one."

"Certainly," Lucius complied easily. He knew Severus would have an opened mind about this. Well, as opened as it got when it involved lethal rituals and his charge.

Severus eventually stood up and asked, "May I offer you a drink since you'll be staying for a while?"

"Thank you, a drink won't be amiss right now, and Balthazar's Burgundy if you have it," he requested.

"I believe there is still some left from the one you gave me last year," Severus informed as he searched the cabinet. Once the wine was acquired, his friend poured for two glasses. "Lucius, I've been meaning to ask you this," Severus said mildly. "Did you happen to have any involvement with that article in the Daily Prophet?"

'So Severus has figured it out after all,' he thought to himself. Lucius tasted the fine wine, drawing out the moment as his friend waited for an answer.

"Well?" Severus impatiently asked.

"Are you speaking of the article depicting the Boy-Who-Lived as a tragic hero that has been graciously taken in by you?" Lucius asked innocently. "The same article that went on to sing praises of your warm, compassionate heart and paint you in a noble light where we all should follow in your example?"

Lucius thought the article was genius on his part, but the flowery words could have toned down a notch. Maybe he should have gone with a different writer, but the only other writer available was that Skeeter woman... no, Nektar was the better choice.

"Yes, that one," Severus replied tersely with an annoyed look, inducing a subtle smile from him. It was always fun to rile up his friend.

"Of course, I did," he admitted. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, but money does get you everything, Severus." A few galleons here and there had them writing what he wanted. A person's will was weakest when faced with their inner demons - a demon called greed.

With a smug smirk, Lucius also added, "Well, that and I had blackmail material on the editor." It was pathetically easy how he obtained the material. The editor was practically fornicating in broad daylight for anyone to stumble upon in the alley.

"I should have known," murmured Severus, followed by an exasperated sigh.

"I also told them to delay the printing of the story," he revealed. "I thought you would appreciate the extra time."

"Yes, appreciation describes the exact emotion to what I was feeling," Severus said in a deadpan tone. But then the potions master slowly gave him a vindictive smirk in return. He never liked that expression when it was directed towards him. "Now, enough of that. In the mean time, why won't you assist me with some research?" Severus inquired with delight.

Lucius trailed his eyes over the voluminous stacks of books. Damn. Perhaps he shouldn't have come today.

o-O-o

Twenty minutes of silence past since Severus and his friend had spent reading through the tomes before the Malfoy lord huffed out in frustration.

"I can't take another second of this," said Lucius in a snit as he slammed the book down.

'He cracked sooner than I thought,' Severus told himself with amusement, placing his own book upon the desk.

Lucius got up and crossed his arms with agitation, resembling his son in that instance. "Only you can look at herbs and fungi all day without being bludgeon to death by boredom," Lucius declared.

Another smirk wound its way to his face. "You never did well in herbology, did you?" he asked the other wizard.

Severus remembered Narcissa telling him once when Lucius almost failed a lesson because the Malfoy lord refused to get 'filthy'. He found that story highly conceivable knowing his friend's sensibilities to dirt.

"I abstain from answering that," denied Lucius. The wizard then finished the last of the wine before speaking again, "I believe it's time I should leave now. Narcissa is expecting me back soon."

"What a shame," he commented wryly. What would he do with his time now that Lucius was leaving? He had plenty of ideas.

Lucius grabbed a handful of floo powder near the fireplace but paused in throwing it. "Wait, I just remember something," Lucius said, turning back towards him. "What have you decided to do for the birthday?"

Severus blinked questioningly at the random topic. "What birthday?"

"The birthday of the boy whom you happen to be the guardian of," Lucius drawled as he returned to sit in the chair.

His eyes widened marginally at that revelation. "Shit," he cursed out. Out of all the things to be forgetful of! Severus had been so absorbed in the research that he completely overlooked Potter's up coming birthday.

"You forgot, didn't you?" the Malfoy lord asked unnecessarily.

He glared at Lucius. Severus had also forgotten how annoying his friend could be on occasions.

o-O-o

**Draco's Bedroom - July 31, 1990**

Posters of quidditch teams decorated the spacious room where a Comet 260 was proudly displayed on the wall. Discarded wrappers from sweets, and empty chocolate frog boxes were amassed on the floor in an array of colours. In the center laid an immense bed with disheveled blue sheets.

Draco tossed the wizarding cards on his bed where it landed in a pile with the others. He flopped on his back, rolling to his side with a bored sigh. He had been stuck in here after breakfast when his father had sent him to his room. He was told to wait until everything was ready for the birthday party.

It wasn't much of a party in his opinion compared to his own since it would only be his family and another group attending. Father wouldn't tell him whose birthday it was, even when he asked in a very adult manner (it was not whining no matter what they said). The only thing his mother would reveal was that it was for a boy his age. But he knew it was for someone important or else his parents wouldn't have bothered setting it up.

Draco felt like it had been hours as he let out another sigh. In reality, it had probably only been an hour or two, but it felt much longer when there wasn't anything to do. He got up and started pacing around his room, completely restless now. Draco glanced at his door with narrowed eyes, demanding it to entertain him.

With no patience left, he finally decided to take a quick look around the manor. A little peek wouldn't hurt, and he would return to his room immediately before anyone noticed. Draco softly opened his door, poking his head out to insure he was alone. Once confirmed, he stealthily walked down the hallway filled with antiques and portraits of his forefathers.

Draco passed his father's study to see that it was locked, a sure sign that his father was busy with a guest in there. His mother was likely in the library, so he chose to investigate the guest sitting room first.

A few turns in the hallway lead him to the entrance of the sitting room. Draco furtively glanced around the wall, trying to detect anyone there. Apparently there was because sitting on the sofa was a boy in light robes. From what he could tell, the boy had dark, messy locks with a classic pureblood visage. He walked towards the sofa, inquisitive about this new person.

"What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.

The boy didn't seem startled with his presence, and Draco assumed that his footsteps were probably heard by the boy.

"I'm here with Professor Snape," the boy answered, turning a little in his direction. "He said it was for a necessary event."

Professor Snape? Oh, he remembered now; the boy must be the professor's new charge. His parents kept mentioning it, but he never really paid attention beyond that. Still, why would the professor bring him here?

"Hm, you must be here for the birthday party," Draco said in realisation as he sat down next to the strange boy.

"Birthday party?" the boy asked with a tilt of the head.

"Yeah, it's for someone important," he informed. "I think it's for the son of some foreign diplomat." Well, that's the only person he could think of.

Draco soon spotted the stick next to the boy's leg that he almost overlooked. It was made of a light brown wood that had runes carved along the length of it. This was the first time he ever saw anything like it.

"What are you doing with that long stick?" Draco blurted out in curiosity.

"It's to help me walk around because I can't see," explained the boy, grabbing hold of the walking stick.

Draco scrunched his nose in confusion. "You can't see? What, are you blind or something?"

"Uh, yeah... I am," the boy said slowly.

Draco wore a dumbfounded look as he blinked twice at the honest answer. "Oh, sorry," the Malfoy heir said awkwardly. 'Way to go, Draco,' he mentally berated himself. No wonder his mother always told him to think before he speak.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I'm getting use to it," the other said in acceptance.

Now that he knew, Draco took this chance to examine the boy's eyes. He noticed that they were an emerald colour with a white, cloudy appearance over it. They were really a sight to see at first glance, resembling a snow covered green field.

It was then that he became aware of something. "Wait, we haven't introduced ourselves yet," he belatedly mentioned. Summoning his father's confidence and poise when meeting someone, he said with pride, "Anyway, my name is Draco Malfoy."

The other boy gave a slight smile. "My name is Harry," the boy said, "Harry Potter."

Draco froze at the famous name, and his eyes instantly searched the boy's forehead. There, peeking behind the long fringe was the outline of the lightning bolt scar. He dropped his jaw in disbelief at the boy's real identity.

'I've been talking to the Boy-Who-Lived!' Draco realised wildly. Now that he thought about it, he should have figured it out sooner that this was Harry Potter. Didn't Blaise say something about Potter being blind? But still, his father really should have warned him about this.

Harry Potter's head turned in puzzlement at his sudden silence. "Is something wrong?"

'Say something, anything Draco!' he screamed inside his head, but the only sound that came out was, "Um..."

Never before had Draco been so glad that his father wasn't here to witness him dragging the Malfoy name down. He could just imagine his forefathers shaking their heads in disapproval at this display from the grave. But he could still salvage this situation, all he needed to do was just say something smooth and -

"Draco, it seems that you have already met Mr. Potter," his father's voice spoke from behind them, "even though I have instructed you to stay in your room."

'Bloody hell, I'm dead now,' Draco thought frantically. His heart thundered in his chest as he slowly turned around to face the two adults. "Father, Professor Snape," he inclined his head to each of them. Okay, his father didn't look angry, just irritated, and the professor actually appeared amuse, which was an expression Draco rarely saw on the man's face.

The older wizards walked around the sofa to stand in front of them. "Potter, since you are already acquainted with Draco, I would like you to meet his father, Lucius Malfoy," said Professor Snape.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Potter," his father said elegantly. The Malfoy lord gave Potter a scrutinizing look, as if searching for something. His father must have found it because the man eventually relaxed his gaze.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Malfoy," Potter said politely, "and thank you for inviting me here. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," his father remarked. "Besides, what would a birthday party be without the birthday boy?"

Potter looked bewildered at that before the meaning sunk in. "You mean, the birthday party is for me?" Potter asked in wonder.

Draco glanced questioningly at the Boy-Who-Lived. The way Potter had said it was as if the other boy had never been given a birthday party before. Then again, maybe it was just him, and he was looking too much into it.

However, there was one thing he knew without a doubt - he should have stayed in his room.

o-O-o

Harry's mind was having difficulty processing how the day's events so far was real. Listening to Mrs. Malfoy play the piano for his birthday was an embarrassingly strange moment, but he still enjoyed it. Not to mention the chocolate cake was the best birthday cake he ever had. Well, the only one he ever had, but it was still the best. Afterwards, he received a small music box from the Malfoys while the professor gave him a charmed watch that could tell the time and place out loud. He was grateful for everything, but it seemed the day wasn't over for him yet.

"Potter, whatever happens, do not let go," Professor Snape ordered, "and I cannot emphasize enough on the 'do not'."

Currently, they were all outside near the stables except for Mrs. Malfoy who has remained back at the manor. Mr. Malfoy explained how the stables contained a variety of horses, and one type of horse was called an aethonan. He said the aethonan was a breed of winged horses his family has owned for centuries, and they were allowed to ride them for the occasion.

Harry was actually excited to ride the winged aethonan with Professor Snape. The professor would be sitting behind him whilst Draco would be with his father. For now, the professor was instructing him to hold onto the saddle as the man steered with the reigns.

"Do you understand?" asked Professor Snape.

"Yes, sir," Harry said as he tightened his grip. He didn't really want to let go either.

"Don't worry, Severus," Mr. Malfoy assured. "They are quite tame and are personally trained by me."

"That's what has me worried," the professor candidly replied.

Mr. Malfoy ignored that comment as he said, "Just give the reigns a slight shake and we'll be flying in no time."

Professor Snape issued out a quiet sigh and asked once more, "Are you ready, Potter?"

Harry nodded his head in reply, and he then heard the whip of the reigns before the flapping of wings signaled their lift from the ground. He felt the momentary pressure as they pushed into the air before it eased out into a smooth glide. The wind ran through his hair, ruffling it teasingly as he leaned forward, his body naturally adjusting to increase the acceleration. Harry never thought it was possible, but he loved the feeling of weightlessness and the speed as he soared in the sky. It was truly exhilarating, and the closest he ever felt to freedom.

Through out the flight, the professor held onto him tightly with one hand, and Harry had a feeling the man didn't enjoy it as much as him.

Before he knew it, Harry gradually felt them dipping to land back on the ground. Their aethonan trotted around a little bit before stilling, and Professor Snape soon dismounted.

"That's the last time I'll ever listen to Lucius," the professor murmured under his breath. "Here, Potter. Let me give you a hand."

As Harry was about to dismount, he grabbed a hold of the reigns, pulling on it slightly. That pull was apparently enough of a sign for the winged horse, and Harry suddenly felt a jolt from the aethonan as it propelled back into the air. He heard people yelling in surprise as the aethonan continued to carry him higher into the sky. Harry didn't need his sight to know that he was in trouble right then.

Harry couldn't figure how far up he was or what to do, but he had to try something. Harry pulled hard on the reigns in order to stop the winged horse, but it made the aethonan turn sharply causing his body to thrust to the side where he lost his grip on the reigns. With that one move his body twisted away, and he fell off the aethonan.

"HARRY!"

o-O-o

Severus cried the child's name out in alarm as Potter descended through the air in a speeding course similar to that of a released arrow. He felt his heart plummeting to the ground with the younger wizard in that fatal second.

His wand instantly shot to his hand while the _Aresto Momentum_ spell was on the tip of his lips. Before Severus even had a chance to utter a syllable, a soft, green aura seemed to gradually envelop Potter, slowing down his deadly descent. Potter was still falling, but it was as if he was now just a feather drifting in the air. The aura around Potter then grew brighter as it pulsated with a power that could be felt from below, and it left a taste of intoxication that almost suffocated them.

He stood there in a shock stupor with Lucius and Draco beside him, watching in amazement at the miraculous feat of accidental magic. It was a common occurrence for a child's magic to rise up in times of need but not to this magnitude. This was on a scale beyond the ability of a mere boy. However, that was not of the highest concern for him at the moment.

The green aura dispersed in a mist of smoke as soon as Potter's feet touched the ground, and Severus ran towards the younger wizard in an anxious dash. His mind was already running through healing spells and potions required if Potter was injured in any way. He wouldn't let anything happen to the child - Potter had to be safe. Severus wouldn't forgive himself otherwise.

o-O-o

A rush of wind pressed against his face as his body tumbled through the air. At that moment, his mind could think of nothing else but the thumping of his heart as it pounded in a symphony of urgent beats. The rhythm dominated his senses, seeming to isolate every other sound out until that was the only thing that he could hear. Harry then felt a slight tingle slowly spreading across his chest and soothing him like water spilling forth in a dry riverbed. It felt so warm as it coiled itself around him in a protective grasp.

Harry felt himself getting lighter, beginning to weigh less and less, as if gravity no longer had a rule over him. Time must have moved forward faster than he realised because Harry soon felt the rough ground beneath his feet. He collapsed to his knees and hands, attempting to catch his bearings as the warmness receded. The disappearance of the weird tingle left him feeling breathless and disoriented. Before the shock could register, Harry felt hands on his arms, gripping him in support.

"Are you all right, Potter?" Professor Snape intently questioned, followed by approaching footsteps.

"Yes, sir. I'm fine, really," Harry supplied wearily, trying to stand up.

"Are you sure?" the professor asked again while the man helped him to stand on unsteady legs. The older wizard's hands remained firm on his shoulders as Harry regained his balance.

"Yes, Professor. It was just... wow." There really was no other way for him to describe what he had felt.

" 'Wow' is not the word that I would use to convey the experience," Professor Snape spoke with an edge of sarcastic exhaustion.

"Perhaps not the most suitable word, but it was indeed extraordinary," Mr. Malfoy suggested somewhere to his right.

"Yeah, that was amazing!" Draco loudly exclaimed near his other side.

"Your inside voice, Draco," Mr. Malfoy reminded with a small sigh. "None the less, we're all glad that you are unharmed, Mr. Potter."

"Unharmed, but Potter is utterly spent from the magic," stated Professor Snape. The professor's hold relinquished once he was stable enough to not topple over, but the man still stood close beside him.

"Then it will be best that I send for a mediwizard to properly check him," Mr. Malfoy offered.

"Floo call Madam Pomfrey," the professor recommended. "She should be available right now."

"Of course," said Mr. Malfoy. "Come now, Draco. Severus shall remain here with Mr. Potter as we returned to the manor."

"Yes, father," Draco replied before following the Malfoy lord.

As the footsteps hurried away, Harry tried to remember what happened as he fell. Now that he wasn't falling to his death and had time to think about it, the thing that was surrounding him felt very familiar. It was as if he knew it his whole life.

"What just happened, Professor?" Harry asked while he leaned slightly against the professor. "When I was falling, it felt like something was wrapping around me and slowing my fall."

"That was your accidental magic," Professor Snape provided. "In times of extreme distress, your magic will answer to your subconscious desire to protect you."

"My magic," Harry repeated quietly. Was that really his magic? It just felt so strong to him and so... alive. He had a hard time believing it, but at the same time, he knew it was true. As Harry pondered about it, another thought entered his mind. "Professor, I don't suppose we can do that again?" he asked. Despite the fall, riding the aethonan was still the most fun he ever had.

For some reason, Harry had the feeling that the professor was glaring at him. Maybe he should have reconsidered that question.

"Potter, you better change your priorities regarding your safety, or I'll throw you off the aethonan myself next time," Professor Snape heatedly declared.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, knowing that it was a silly question. However, he couldn't help but also asked, "Is that a 'no'?"

o-O-o

**4 Privet Drive - July 31, 1989**

Sweat drifted off his forehead as he scrubbed the tiles of the kitchen floor. Harry had been working most of the afternoon cleaning up the house for his aunt while she relaxed on the sofa, reading her magazines. She had some friends coming over later on, and demanded the house to beam in perfection when they arrived.

Of course when they do appear, Harry would be long gone from sight. Aunt Petunia wanted him out of the house by then, so she has allowed him to wander to the park a few blocks away. That was the only good thing from this whole messy day as he endured through the grueling labour. The park was a sanctuary from his family, and he yearned to hide in its comfort right now - especially today.

Wiping the sweat away with the back of his hand, Harry approached his aunt once the kitchen was cleaned. "I've finished all my chores, Aunt Petunia," he announced as she looked up from the magazine.

"Not quite yet," Aunt Petunia disagreed. "You still have to set the plates out on the table, or have you forgotten already, you lazy boy?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered obediently and turned to get the plates. He reminded himself that his aunt sometimes had the tendency to tell him things at the last minute whenever he did the cleaning or cooking.

"And don't forget to put the flowers in the vase!" she hollered from the sofa.

Correction. His aunt _always_ told him things at the last moment.

Harry gave her a reply as he retrieved the plates from the dish rack. While his concentration was on carrying the heavy plates, Harry didn't get the chance to detect the small spot of water on the tiled floor. As he neared the table, his foot slid on the wet patch, unbalancing him for just a second. But that second was all that was needed for the plates to slip out of his hands and land on the floor with a loud crash.

He stared at the shattered pieces in horror, the white shards mocking him in its ruined state. Harry felt a rush of panic while his breathing rapidly picked up. The only thought circulating in his mind was of his uncle's red, raging face if the man ever found out. Gradually, his senses resurfaced in slow trickles, and his awareness returned to the sound of his aunt's screeching voice.

"What have you done!" Aunt Petunia angrily screamed. "My plates are all in pieces because of you!"

She was standing before him, waving her arms erratically to express her fury. Harry remembered seeing his aunt this way only once when Uncle Vernon came home after work drunk, and it was not a pretty sight. Compared to that, Aunt Petunia must be really pissed off with him now.

Harry swallowed down his nervousness and managed out an apology. "I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia, it was an accident-"

"Just get out of here!" Aunt Petunia interrupted with rancor. "You're nothing but trouble!"

Before she could say another word, Harry was already retreating to the front door as if Ripper was behind him in pursuit. Gratefully, the door closed with a noticeable click, blocking the impending rant on the other side. Harry exhaled a tired breath and decided to begin his trek through the neighborhood before his aunt could change her mind.

Harry walked past parked cars and trimmed bushes, his mind in a turmoil of castigation. He couldn't believe that he was so clumsy. How could he have dropped the plates? If only he was more careful, then everything would have been okay. Hopefully, his aunt's temper would simmer down by the time he get back. Harry momentarily closed his eyes as the wind blew over his face with comfort.

The sound of rustling leaves grabbed his attention, and all thoughts of broken dishes and his family immediately vanished as soon as he spotted the collection of trees in the park. A smile of relief climbed to his face as Harry navigated through the plant life to find his secret place. Well, his secret place was really just a small, grassy area surrounded by trees and shrubs, but it covered him enough that no one would see him.

Once there, he laid on the grass, content with watching the clouds as they floated across the sky. Harry enjoyed the serene solitude while his body uncoiled from the tension. Suddenly, a bird launched itself into the air, and it flew in fluid spirals, playfully twisting along the branches. He wondered what it would feel like to fly, so high up that nothing could ever reach him. With a shake of his head to clear such silly thoughts, Harry reluctantly got up from his position to start with a yearly tradition he created for this day.

Harry gathered a couple of rocks near the shrubs and managed to collect nine small twigs under a holly tree. He arranged the small rocks on the ground in the shape of a cake and placed the twigs as candles. Harry inspected the crudely built birthday cake with satisfaction as he knelt there in the hidden alcove of trees.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," he whispered to himself and closed his eyes to blow on the pretend candles. Harry kept his eyes closed as he wished, so he never noticed the slight green glow emitting from the tip of the twigs before dimming to normal.

TBC

A/N: Sirius & Remus will appear a little next chapter. Hope everyone enjoyed reading so far.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter & its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

**WARNINGS: **Eventual Slash (Male/Male). Hints of CHAN (romance between minor & adult).

o-O-o

**Azkaban - August 2, 1990**

Stones of black rose high above the seas, the only man-made fortress in the surrounding elements. Strong winds spurred the turbulent waves, unrelenting in its harshness as they crashed against the walls. While grey clouds gathered above the structure, forming a miasma of asphyxiation that seemed to stretch past the horizon.

'What a dreary day,' Sirius thought morosely as he gazed out the barred window. 'Then again, the weather is like this year round.'

He sighed in disinterest and glanced around his cell. A toilet in the corner that breaks down more often than he likes, and a pile of hay for his bed laid in the opposite corner. Yup, this was the life. It couldn't get any better than this, with iron bars for doors and a stone wall for one side of the room and - oh, look - another stone wall... damn, he could be losing it now.

'Ugh, the dementors should just come and eat me already,' Sirius said to himself with frustration, flinging his hands against the floor as he sat there.

It was strange how the dementors had been leaving him alone for over a year now. Maybe they were finally fed up with their failed attempts to drain all the happiness from him. Well, it didn't matter because he certainly didn't miss them. Unfortunately, the only thing that didn't leave was the frigid cold. He believed it was the cold from the dementors that would gradually drive his health to the gutter. It left an iciness that seemed to seep beneath the skin and penetrate the bone, freezing everything.

There was no escape from it, but his animagus form did help to relieve a lot of the effects - both mental and physical. Sirius was never more grateful than he was, to be an animal with thick fur. And to think, he once complained about not being a hawk for his animagus form. But now that he thought about it, if he was a hawk then he could have flown right out of here from the start. Hm, what a useful form... yeah, he should have been a hawk.

The screeching sound of steel doors opening soon caught his attention. It was then followed by the stomping of heavy footsteps. During his long imprisonment here, there were only two people who has ever visited his cell: Fudge and Clayton. Since Fudge had already made his yearly visit in May, it could only be one other person.

"It's been a while, Clayton," he greeted the guard in a hoarse voice.

Albert Clayton was a death eater sympathiser, which was pretty ironic considering the old man was in charge of the high security level prisoners. Conveniently, Clayton was also the only guard to patrol his floor. And since Sirius was a 'mass murderer' and You-Know-Who's right hand man, Clayton had the house elves providing him with a decent amount of food. Now, all he needed was a comfortable bed and a good bath, then it would be exactly like a five star hotel.

"Well, I've been busy," Clayton replied roughly, standing behind the bars with his arms crossed.

The old man had a full head of white hair, standing a little over five feet. Clayton was a short man, but his broad shoulders and long arms made him oddly disproportional. It reminded Sirius of that animal Lily once showed him, saying that it must be a relative of his or something. What was it called? A zorilla or was it guzilla?

A cough from the other wizard had him meeting dull brown eyes. "By the end of this month I'm going to retire," Clayton informed him suddenly.

Sirius scratched his head at that. "So that's why I haven't seen you since June," he mentioned in realisation. "Are they going to send a rookie to replace you then?" Sirius couldn't say that he would miss the guy. Clayton was boring as hell, but the old man at least gave him some company through the years.

"Nah, they're cutting the numbers stationed here," Clayton said before sneering out, "Apparently, the Minister believes the dementors are more than enough to guard Azkaban."

He blinked in surprise as Clayton grumbled some more. Sirius knew that Fudge was an idiot, but this was beyond what he thought the Minister was capable of - Fudge was just a plain dumb arse.

"Anyway, that's about it," Clayton finished and began to walk away. "Now I have to go check the other cells before it gets dark."

"Hey, Clayton!" Sirius called out from the iron bars, stopping the other wizard. "Do you have the Daily Prophet on you?" He was in dire need of a distraction, and the newspaper had always provided that. Well, that and a good laugh at whoever Skeeter was ruining.

"Not this time," said Clayton, turning back towards him, "but it will interest you to know that the wizarding world is buzzing about the Boy-Who-Lived."

Sirius' breath stilled at the mention of his godson. Of Harry.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly as a foreboding knot formed in his stomach.

It had been years since he heard any news of his godson. Years since he last laid eyes on his face. Years since his godson was handed over to Hagrid. It was a moment he would never forget.

With a grin, Clayton said, "The boy's whole family is dead from some accident, and while he survived, it left him completely blind."

Sirius could do nothing more but stare as Clayton ambled off with a chuckle and a wave of the hand, oblivious to his building rage. If it wasn't for the bars, Sirius would have launched himself at the man and torn his throat out with his canine teeth. As it was, he settled for destroying his bed of hay and cursing the seven hells.

When there was nothing left to ravage, he collapsed to his knees amongst the strewn hay. "Harry..." Sirius whispered with consuming guilt, holding his head in his hands. He shut his eyes, unable to see anything else but his godson's face as an infant. The face soon morphed into James, gazing at him with disappointment and betrayal. He failed them all.

"I'm so sorry, James..." Sirius choked out.

He couldn't even protect his godson for James, couldn't do anything trapped in here. At that last thought, Sirius quickly looked to the iron bars, and with a growl, he transformed into Padfoot. He needed to escape and get to Harry now. It was what he should have done years ago.

He approached the bars, determined as he angled his head. Slowly, Sirius managed to squeeze his head through the poles, and hoping this would work, he pushed harder... only to find his neck stuck in between the iron rods. 'Fuck!' he mentally cursed. Sirius wiggled around a little bit more, pulling back with all his strength before his head could finally pop free.

Okay, that was pretty reckless of him, to think he could escape just like that. Maybe this was what Remus was always telling him about, to not dive head first into a situation. Well, perhaps not too literally.

He sat on his hind legs, glaring at the bars. It seemed his body was too big to slide through, and the solution to that was obvious to him also. With a sigh, Sirius transformed back, hoping Harry would be all right for a few more weeks because there was something he had to do first - he needed to cut down on the food.

o-O-o

**Hogwarts Grounds - August 8, 1990**

The clear freshness of the air, was the first thing Harry noticed once they were outside. He and Professor Snape had decided to take a stroll around the lake that morning, and it was a pleasant change from their usual routine. Apparently, it was on Madam Pomfrey's order that he needed more exercise, but Harry didn't mind so much.

Going outside was something he did a lot at the Dursleys, and walks around the park was a typical activity for him. However, this would be the first time another person was with him on a stroll. Harry found himself enjoying the new experience as they walked by each other's side in silence, each occupied with their own thoughts.

The weeks living with Professor Snape were not what he had expected. It was completely different than staying with the Dursleys because with the professor, he actually felt welcomed. Harry was surprised how natural it seemed, living with the older wizard - as if he belonged.

Then, there were times when he couldn't believe how patient the potions master was and how... understanding. Professor Snape was still strict on certain things, like him eating three full meals a day, but when it came to his nightmares, the professor was always there by his side. Harry never realised how comforting it was to have someone care for him; it was a feeling he could easily become addicted to.

Yet most of all, Harry came to treasure the simple moments with the professor the most. Especially the quiet occasions where they would just sit by the fire at night while Professor Snape would talk about the wizarding world. In truth, spending time with the professor was his favourite part of the day.

"Let us stop right here, Potter," Professor Snape called out, followed with a light tap on his shoulder to signal their halt.

"Why here, Professor?" Harry wondered as he used the walking stick to inspect the ground.

"This is where I usually come on my walks to gather fungi," the potions master explained. "They grow along the trees here."

The professor did mentioned that he liked to collect certain ingredients himself. He just never imagined Professor Snape to be the outdoors type though. "Do you often go on walks, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but preferably in the summer when I am free. Contrary to what most people believe, I do not spend all my time in the dungeons," Professor Snape said wryly. "I am capable of appreciating the serene beauty that Hogwarts has to offer."

The beauty of Hogwarts... his new home. Was it as wonderful, as all the other professors said it was?

"Professor, what does it all look like?" he inquired curiously.

"I assume you mean Hogwarts?" the older wizard questioned back.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, the castle is nestled on top of a hill that over looks a vast lake. Countless trees and mountains of immense size surrounds it in every direction. And many of the castle's great towers stand tall as it spirals high into the sky," Professor Snape described. "During the day, its many windows could be seen reflecting the sun's light. While at night, it emits a glow that could even compete with the stars. Hogwarts, I like to believe, is something untouched by time - changeless in its way."

The scenery the professor painted, reminded him of a fairy tale castle he once read. He would have never been able to dream, that such a place like this existed. Harry still had a hard time grasping that he was actually living at Hogwarts. If only he could just _see_ it all.

For the first time, he truly hated his blindness.

"It's not fair," Harry murmured. "It's not fair that I can't see any of it."

"Potter," Professor Snape said his name quietly, in a tone he didn't recognised.

"I... I just want to be normal," he confessed guiltily, gripping the walking stick in a strained hold. "I know it's selfish of me but..."

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, a firm grasp to reassure him.

"No, it's not selfish of you," the professor spoke resolutely. "You have every right to be hurt and angry about it."

Since the accident, he had tried to not think about his blindness and pretend it was okay. Harry was afraid that if he didn't, then everything would fall around him. That he would come to resent his situation because he couldn't do anything to fix it. It was this feeling of helplessness that he hated the most.

"Professor, I just- I just want to see it, at least once," Harry told him honestly. "I don't want to be blind like this."

The hand dropped from his shoulder, and he heard the professor's footsteps as it moved closer.

"You may not see it, but the sounds and smell around you are still there," said Professor Snape. "You can still feel it, Potter."

Harry then felt a soft touch on his left cheek. The back of fingers brushed his skin lightly. He shivered at the contact and leaned a little towards the touch.

"Can you feel the cool breeze as it passes by you? The warmth from the sun as it lies upon your skin?" Professor Snape asked intently. "Can you hear the rustle of the trees as it sways?"

In that instance, Harry heard, more than felt, the wild beating of his heart as it increased in tempo. It echoed loudly in his ear, and he wondered briefly if the professor could also hear it.

"Your sight may be gone," whispered Professor Snape, "but you have more to see the world with than just your eyes."

Professor Snape stroke his cheek one last time before removing the raised hand. Harry was surprised that he missed the warmth of his touch at once, but decided not to dwell on it right now.

"We should proceed back now," Professor Snape suggested, "it will be noon soon, and the headmaster has requested us to dine in the Great Hall today."

Harry nodded his head silently, resisting the urge to feel his own cheek, just so he could remember the sensation.

Together, they made the long trek back to the castle.

o-O-o

**Headmaster's Office - August 11, 1990**

"Would you care for a lemon drop, Severus?" Albus asked him, presenting a full tin of the yellow confections.

"They're not laced with a calming draught, are they?" Severus questioned as he eyed the offered sweets from across the desk with suspicion.

Once again, he was called to the headmaster's office for a private discussion, and this time, Severus was on high alert for any disconcerting news. It was perhaps judgmental on his part, to think that Dumbledore would always deliver ill tidings, but knowing the old coot's record, Severus would rather be prepared than not at all.

"Don't be silly, my boy," the headmaster answered with a chuckle. "The rumour mill from the staff room must still be going strong, if this is what everyone believes."

Well, that and much more. It was outrageous what his colleagues could conjure up over the summer holidays, when there were no brats to occupy themselves with. The latest rumour this week was of a love affair between Albus and Gellert Grindelwald. He snorted at the absurdness of that one when Babbling told him. That rumour has as much chance of being true, as the one of Filch having an affair with his cat. However, as disturbing as it was, this was not what they were here to discuss.

"Was there something you needed, Albus?" Severus wanted to get this over with quickly, and he wasn't in the mood for any more small talk.

Placing the tin of lemon drops away, the headmaster clasped his hands together and pinned him with a serious look. "Severus, what are your thoughts on hiring a tutor for young Mr. Potter?"

Besides the slight narrowing of his eyes, Severus gave no other indication to what he felt about that question. In all honesty, he was against the idea of a stranger being around Potter without his supervision. Severus was not being overly protective or unreasonable about it, since there were some who would use the boy for their own ends if given the chance. And then, there were those who simply wanted Potter dead. Really, if he didn't have white hair by the time he was forty, it would be a miracle.

"Potter is doing sufficiently well on his self study, and I've already begun potion theory with him," Severus responded carefully. "A tutor at this moment is not necessary."

"Perhaps... but once the school year starts, you will hardly have time for the boy," the headmaster explained calmly. "He will need a tutor to start him with magical theory, and to help prepare him for Hogwarts."

It was a valid point, but that was still dependent on whether the tutor was a psychotic murderer or not. "Be that as it may, there is a low possibility of finding a tutor who won't take advantage of Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived," Severus countered. "It should also be mentioned that Potter will require a different method of teaching due to his lack of sight."

A sudden chirp from the other side of the office temporarily stalled their conversation. He looked over to see Fawkes snapping his beak in hunger.

"Oh, pardon me, Severus," said Dumbledore. The headmaster swiftly got up and strode over to the phoenix with a summoned bowl of fruits. Fawkes seemed to be in his fledgling form, some time after a burning day and with nothing more than a fluff of feathers covering its body. The headmaster gently fed the bird as it eagerly gulped down the pieces. It was strange how Albus appeared to be like a fussing parent at that moment.

Eventually, Dumbledore returned to his seat once Fawkes was satisfied and resumed their conversation. "I agree with you that not everyone will be suitable for the role, but there is a person that I have in mind, who can qualify for such a position," Albus informed him steadily, looking up to survey his reaction. "Someone we can trust to keep the boy safe and with the ability to teach Mr. Potter despite his blindness."

'So Albus has already chosen someone right from the beginning,' he thought with irritation. It was just like Dumbledore, to make plans without considering anyone else's opinion. The headmaster's habit of keeping secrets was aggravating even on the best of days. Although, he shouldn't have expected any less from a man who has commanded them in the last war.

Holding down his annoyance, Severus then racked his mind for a person that could fit Albus' description. Without a doubt, it was a person they both knew, but only Dumbledore trusted. That meant it was someone he certainly disliked. Unfortunately, there was a long list of people in that category. However, there were only a few whom Albus would trust with Potter. No sooner had he finished the thought, did Severus quickly discover the identity of the person.

"No," Severus declared quietly, eyes locked with the headmaster's blue ones. In a firmer voice, he continued, "Anyone else but him, Albus. I refuse to have him be the one to teach Potter."

He didn't want to have any association with that man. Severus had more than enough of him in school, and would like it to stay that way. If it was up to him, he would have liked to forget the man's existence altogether.

"There is no one else better suited, Severus," Albus tried to convince him, "and his condition will not be a problem, as long as we have safety measures in place."

Apparently, Albus had disregarded the fact that this 'condition', almost got him killed when he was younger. Controlling his temper, Severus tightly replied, "He is not the best choice for Potter."

Gazing at him from under his half-moon glasses, Albus asked in return, "Is he not the best for the boy, or not the best for you?"

His lips thinned at the comment, not only did it struck a nerve, but it was also true. It was indeed hard to let go of his anger, and accept the man. His feelings of contempt all those years ago were too ingrained within him to change. Severus may never be able to forgive him for his past transgressions, but for Potter, he would give that man a chance. For Potter, he would try to be... _courteous_.

"I reserve the right to dismiss him if it doesn't work out for Potter," he said in way of agreement. "If Potter doesn't want him, then the matter is over."

"Of course," Albus readily complied. "It is, after all, your decision."

'Of course, it is,' he thought sarcastically. Severus eventually stood up and nodded his head stiffly. "If that is all, Albus, then I shall take my leave."

"Then thank you for your time, Severus," said Dumbledore, eyes alit with a sparkle.

At the sight of the infamous twinkle, Severus suddenly had the urge to apparate far away. He instantly strode towards the door, and as his hand was about to reach for the handle, Albus' voice stopped him.

"Ah, there is something else I forgot to mention, Severus."

His shoulders stiffened with apprehension as Severus turned around, dreading what else the headmaster could possibly want now.

o-O-o

**Snape's Quarters - August 12, 1990**

Lambent flames paraded inside the hearth as Severus and his ward lounged on the sofa, taking comfort in the warmth. The atmosphere was peaceful while he read a loud _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Albus had recommended the book, insisting that he read to Potter himself instead of charming the thing to narrate out loud. The headmaster had suggested it to be used for 'bonding time', and it took all of his trained occlumency skills to not strangle the old coot right where he stood.

Severus knew the book was a fairy tale classic for children in the wizarding world. He certainly remembered his mother reading it to him when he was a child. It unexpectedly captured his attention for a short time, enough to ignore the troubles within his family. Severus just never imagined that he would be reading that same book to another child twenty years later.

Potter remained silent through out the story, appearing to be attentive. However, Severus could discern by the boy's unfocused gaze that Potter was slightly distracted. The young wizard didn't seem disinterested, since he recognised that look when Potter had something to say. Of course, he didn't mind waiting until Potter felt ready enough to speak. It was only when the boy took a considerable amount of time would he resort to slight encouragements.

It wasn't until he reached the end of the second story, did Potter choose to break his silence.

"Uh, sir?" the child quietly spoke up.

Potter bit his bottom lip in uncertainty, a habit he inherited from Lily. There was an improvement in Potter's hesitancy when he requested certain things, but there were still times when the young wizard would revert back to that shy and timid behaviour. Severus would do his best to bring out the child's confidence, but knew that these things should be taken a step at a time.

"Yes?" he replied back. The potions master wondered what could be bothering his ward now.

There was a delay before, "I-may I touch you?"

"What!" he exclaimed in shock, eyes wide as they stared at the young wizard. Severus couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.

"I meant your face, sir! Your face!" Potter cried out desperately, face as red as could be while his hands clutched to the edge of the sofa.

Severus clenched his eyes shut and breathed out. "Is it safe to assume that you wish to perceive my appearance?" he asked with difficulty.

The potions master opened his eyes in time to see Potter nodding quickly, the boy's voice having fled for the moment. The blush stubbornly clung to the youth's cheeks as Potter averted his eyes. It was then that Severus noticed that without the round glasses, Potter's features were softer than his father's. He shook his head slightly to reorganise his thoughts; he had something more crucial to consider.

Severus understood what the child was asking. It was reasonable to know the appearance of the person you lived with. He knew it was an attempt to regain any normality in a situation where one seemed unattainable. If Potter couldn't see him with his eyes, then the boy would see him with his hands. It was this empathy that lead to his decision.

"All right," Severus said quietly.

"Huh?" Potter let out, gazing up in confusion.

"I have given you my permission, to proceed with your request," he clarified for the boy.

"Really? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, sir," Potter quickly explained. "I understand that it might be a little weird and -"

"Potter, stop your rambling," Severus said as his lips quirked in mirth. "I've already said it was okay."

It seemed the boy had also inherited Lily's tendency to chatter nervously. Severus would never admit it out loud, but he found it to be oddly endearing coming from Potter. Usually, he considered it to be an annoying trait if it came from anyone else. Even when it came from Lily, he believed it to be amusing at best.

Potter twisted his body to face him. "So, I can really touch you, Professor?" the young wizard asked again in confirmation, eyes blinking innocently.

He swallowed uncomfortably at the repeated question. Severus wished the boy didn't have to phrase it in such a way. He knew that if Lucius was here to see this, the Malfoy lord would have been smirking and making suggestive comments at his expense. With relief, he mentally sent his gratitude to the inept Ministry for keeping his friend occupied.

He then turned his attention back to Potter. "I believe my statement was clear enough the first time," Severus answered evenly. "Now, shall we get on with it before I change my mind?"

"Yes, sir!" Potter agreed at once. The boy scooted closer to him with a determined look. Potter appeared as if he was ready to face off a whole herd of manticores to the death and win.

'How comforting,' Severus thought sardonically as he grasped the boy's right hand.

Carefully, he lifted the appendage, guiding it to his face. A quiet gasp escaped from Potter as the boy's fingers touched his skin. Severus then released his hold, but the small hand remained frozen, uncertain in its action. It was at this point that he doubted his decision, until the hand finally moved across his countenance.

Tentative fingers first explored his cheeks, slowly caressing it. He tried to stay motionless as Potter examined him, but it was a difficult task to achieve when the touches were so gentle. The hand then moved to his forehead, mapping out the creases caused from his many frowns and frustrations. Severus began to breathe heavily before he briefly closed his eyes as fingers glided over his eyelids.

The small fingertips moved further to lightly ghost over the bridge of his nose, memorising the shape. Severus tried to keep his own brand of anxiousness down, knowing that his nose was often ridiculed for being crooked. But Potter did not pull away in disgust, and the soothing contact persisted on.

Hesitantly, Potter's forefinger softly brushed over his lips. It was then, that Severus felt his heart beating chaotically against his chest, unable to recall the last time anyone has touched him like this.

He ignored his reaction and chose to concentrate on Potter instead. The boy had an expression of awe and amazement on his face, which he couldn't understand. Potter should realise by now that he wasn't a handsome man, and he wasn't delusional enough to think otherwise. Yet for the young wizard, it was perhaps something entirely different.

At last, the boy's hand pulled away, and Potter ended up tracing his own lips with the same finger that felt his. Potter appeared to be in a daze as he swiped his bottom lip with his fingertip, and Severus in turn was entranced by the movement. He watched as Potter continued on until the bell from the clock tolled, signaling a new hour and snapping them out of it.

It rung twice more before it descended into silence. It remained quiet as he thought about what had transpired between them. Severus didn't know why, but a feeling of embarrassment was flooding into him. It filled him until he had to fight his own blush down.

He was just helping Potter with his blindness and nothing more. But why then, couldn't he stop feeling like this? Eventually, his ponderings were cut short when the child spoke up.

"Thank you, sir," Potter said gratefully, looking towards him with a red tinge still visible, "for everything, I mean."

Severus cleared his throat before he could voice his reply. "You don't need to thank me, Potter. I am your guardian and professor," he stated simply. "If it's in my ability to do so, I shall always try to help you." It was true, he would do anything for the boy.

In response, the softest smile seemed to adorn the young wizard, and Severus knew that he wouldn't mind seeing that expression on Potter's face more often.

o-O-o

**Being Division of the Dept. of Regulation & Control of Magical Creatures - August 16, 1990**

With a disappointed sigh, he left the office of the Werewolf Support Services. Remus tugged his tattered robes awkwardly as he entered the long queue in the lobby of the Being Division. While most of the magical creatures in line were there to file a complaint or such, he was there to ask for an appeal to attain the Wolfsbane potion.

In the past, werewolves would be able to receive the potion anonymously. But with the new anit-werewolf laws emerging, it was getting harder to attain it without identification. This wasn't what Remus had hoped for on his return to Britain a week ago, after months of travel around France in search for work.

Unfortunately, that trip proved to be a fruitless endeavor toppled with a heaping of bad luck. Numerous wizards had refused to employ him because of his sketchy history of jobs. And the ones that did, usually uncovered his condition soon after the full moon. Those were the ones that would often react violently towards him.

Believe it or not, one witch had actually attempted to stab him with a silver knife. Silver doesn't even affect werewolves since that was only a muggle myth. However, that mattered little to the witch as she frantically waved her blade around, calling him a 'man-eating dog'.

'How does one respond to that? Sorry, I only bite once a month - please don't stab me?' Remus asked himself tiredly. It was more than disheartening, yet he couldn't help but believe it would eventually get better.

Raised voices ahead of him soon diverted his attention from such thoughts, causing him to look up.

"I was in line before you," a hag argued with a goblin beside her. "Get to the back like the rest, you cretin."

"You stepped out of the line," the goblin stated with a sneer. "Thus, you have forfeited your place."

"I did not!" the hag shrieked, pointing her crusty fingernail at the other creature. "This is not your bank, so stop making up these ridiculous rules!"

"Then it's quite obvious you don't understand the rules," the goblin spat out, "since your intelligence can be match to that of a troll."

Remus, along with everyone else near the vicinity, backed away from the pair. They watched as it ascended into a loud screaming match, that was quite unpleasant for the ears. Well, this was the last thing he expected to see at the Ministry: a hag and a goblin bickering over their place in line.

Wizards from the department instantly rushed forward to quell the argument. However, their intervention did as much good as telling an infestation of gnomes, to politely go burrow somewhere else. Which was very ineffective if one considered the disposition of gnomes.

Ultimately, the duo had decided on a physical solution, since wizarding magic was the only magic permitted within the Ministry. It began with a smack to the goblin's head from the hag, and in retaliation, the goblin kicked his opponent near the shin. From there, it ignited into a brawl of gnarled fists and pointy feet.

"Fighting amongst ourselves is certainly uncivilized," a smooth voice spoke from over his shoulder, abruptly startling him.

His body tensed instinctively, preparing for an attack as the wolf inside of him awoken to a threat. With caution, Remus turned around to the sight of a tall man with waxy, pale skin. He was dressed in a simple, dark green overcoat, but his shoulder length hair was tied together at the nape in an aristocratic manner.

"Don't you agree?" the man asked with a smile, displaying two white fangs.

Vampire.

The wolf within him growled territorially as he struggled to retain a calm outward appearance.

It was strange that he didn't sense the vampire before this. Remus should have recognised the vampire's scent as soon as he stepped inside the room. This prompted him to subtly breathed in the creature to investigate the abnormality. It was then that he discovered something extremely unsettling - there was no scent.

How was that possible? Every magical being had a scent; it was as prominent as the magic they carried within them. Remus should have been able to detect the little magic that vampires possessed. But he couldn't feel anything from this vampire, and that made the wolf even more agitated. Remus pushed the wolf down as it tried to claw its way to the surface. He couldn't afford to lose himself now out of all times.

"How can we cooperate with one another, when there are those who still fight against their very nature," the vampire continued flippantly, though sharp black eyes gazed at him with challenge. "It is truly... pathetic."

He knew the vampire wasn't referring to the quarreling pair this time. The wolf snarled louder in his mind, itching to sink its teeth into the other creature, but his grip on the wolf remained firm.

Remus kept his focus on the vampire as he finally offered a response. "At times, it is best not to fall prey to urges," he spoke carefully. "Otherwise, cooperation is pointless amongst us if the animal seizes control."

" 'Animal' you say?" the vampire repeated with curiosity, stepping closer towards him. "How amusing, you imply as if being human has any merit."

"Were you not a human once?" Remus questioned as he tried to maintain some distance between them. This seemed to entertain the vampire further, but it also halted the other creature's movement.

By now, a large group had gathered around the hag and goblin. Some were rooting for the goblin as it managed to deliver a well aimed strike to the hag's jaw. Remus and the vampire lingered near the edge of the crowd as it continued to cheer on, oblivious to the mounting tension.

"Yes," the vampire replied with an incline of the head, causing strands of light brown hair to fall near his eyes, "and I am indebted to the many deities out there, that I was saved from such a fate."

"Some would say that you are curse with an even worse fate," Remus said pointedly, unable to keep the animosity out of his voice as the wolf churned his emotions.

"Perhaps," said the vampire, his gaunt face impassive until it turned into another fanged smile, "but it is a fate, still not as cruel and tragic as yours."

His hands clenched into fists as he tempered his anger. To most vampires, a werewolf's life was filled with suffering and turmoil. Those infected with lycanthropy tend to live shorter lives due to the painful transformations and constant battle with their inner wolf. Though arduous, he would rather live that short life than an eternity of a vampire's hollowed existence.

"That may be, but I still retain my humanity," Remus declared roughly, staring directly into the uncaring gaze.

"Then tell me, my fellow creature," the vampire said in a mocking tone, "for how long can you keep it?"

Fingernails dug into his palm as he narrowed his eyes. The way those words were said...

Before he had a chance to respond, the crowd around them began to disperse. It seemed the wizards from the department had finally realised the usefulness of their wands and stunned the fighting goblin and hag.

With the scattering of the crowd, it appeared to be the opportune moment for the vampire to also depart. The other creature walked away languidly, but paused to looked back at him.

"My name is Aarik Durkel by the way," the vampire, Durkel, informed as he sauntered off, "and the best of luck to you and your humanity, _Werewolf_."

o-O-o

Remus gazed upon the small cottage with relief once he arrived by apparation. It was more like a run-down shack than a cottage, with the shingles falling off carelessly like the autumn leaves - expected but annoying to clean up. It was rented out to him by a friendly old lady, who was able to overlook his shabby appearance and inconsistent payment.

The wooden door unlocked with a flick of his wand, opening up to a sparse sitting room. The walls were coated in peeling blue paint while the furnitures laid in a decrepit state, dwindled by the passage of time. It wasn't much, but it passed enough for a shelter, since this was the best he could afford.

Entering the small kitchen, Remus quickly set the kettle on the stove for tea. After the day he had, perhaps a glass of fire whiskey wouldn't be so bad either. As the water boiled, he sat in a chair with a sigh and closed his eyes in exhaustion. Despite his efforts to relax, his mind soon wandered back to the occurrence at the Ministry.

Aarik Durkel.

The encounter with the strange vampire still left him wary and on edge. This was one creature he hoped to never meet again. Everything about Durkel felt wrong, and it had his wolf bristling with a hostility no other vampire had managed. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that Durkel was dangerous. It was hard to forget the cold malice hidden behind that smile.

It was as if any life that could have existed inside that man had long extinguished, leaving nothing behind but a rotting carcass. As much as the wolf hated Durkel, there was a part of him that felt a trace of fear. A fear of losing himself inside the emptiness that emanated from the vampire.

Before Remus could muse any further on the subject, a tap from the window alerted him to another presence. He glanced over to see an owl with a letter.

"An owl for me?" Remus questioned out loud, standing up. "I wonder who this could be from..."

o-O-o

**Hogwarts 2nd Floor Corridor - March 9, 1973**

"Severus?" Lily called from behind the closed door. "Are you in there?"

Not for the first time that day, he cursed his luck and everything that had to do with Potter and Black. Severus pressed the handkerchief against his nose in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. He looked around the dust filled classroom in search of another way out. Aggravatingly, out of all the rooms he could have chosen to hide in, it had to be the one with only a single entrance.

The door opened with a loud creak as Lily peered inside. He quickly turned his back, stalling for time and the eventual need for an explanation.

"Severus, what are you doing in here?" she questioned, approaching him from behind. "I thought we were suppose to meet in the library."

"I was just taking a detour," Severus lied, facing away from her. "How did you find me anyway?" He thought this classroom had been unused for years.

"With the Point Me charm, of course," Lily said before she laid a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

With a mental sigh, Severus reluctantly turned around, causing a gasp of surprise from her. He carefully hid a wince as he shifted his foot, trying not to lean on it.

"Oh, Sev," she whispered worriedly, "what have those idiots done to you?" Lily immediately took out her own handkerchief to dab at the blood near his chin.

"It's nothing, Lily," Severus reassured her as he tried to breathe through the thin fabric, "I'm fine." It was only after he had said that word, did Severus realised his mistake.

"Fine!" she yelled a little too close to his ear, and Severus didn't even try to stop the wince from that shout. Perhaps he should now add ear damage to his list of injuries. At this point, he was gathering a nice collection of it. "You're bleeding everywhere! And you say you're 'fine'."

Well, 'bleeding everywhere' was a bit of an overstatement. Only his tie and the collar of his shirt had any blood on it, which wasn't that much compared to the amount still bleeding from his nose. With a strong cleaning charm and a good wash, it should remove most of the troublesome stains. However, he didn't think now would be the appropriate time to tell his friend that.

"It was nothing more than a tripping jinx," Severus tried to tell her and before Lily could dispute that he added, "down the stairs." He purposely left out that it was the moving staircases. His friend didn't need to worry any more than she was doing at the moment.

"What? I can't believe those boys!" Lily cried in outrage, eyes burning a deadly vivid green. "Of all the stupid and reckless things to do. Oh, just they wait, I'm going to curse their manhood so much that once I'm through, they'll be begging for forgiveness."

Severus surreptitiously took a step away from her as Lily described in detail the process of their punishment, arms waving in the air for emphasis. It was times like these, that he was glad not to be at the end of her volatile temper.

"Lily, don't worry about it," Severus spoke over her agitated voice. "I have already taken care of it."

She paused in her tirade, head swiveling to him. "What do you mean?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"I cursed them back with a Leg-Locker Curse," he revealed with a vicious smile. "They had their own trip down the stairs." It was a truly beautiful sight, as angry shock took over their faces when they fell from his spell. Without a doubt, it was a memory Severus would forever treasure many years from now.

Lily stared at him incredulously before a slow smile grew on her face. "I can't believe you!" she said with a chuckle. "You actually got them back." After the amusement died down, she shook her head in exasperation, "Still, you should have gone to a professor."

"I rather handle it myself," Severus said. He hated running to other people to resolve his problems (especially with Potter and Black). Perhaps he was just stubborn, but he believed it to be weak to hide behind others.

"Well, healing yourself is something you can't handle. We should take you to Madam Pomfrey," Lily told him. "If only I knew some healing spells."

"Lily, we're only in our second year," Severus remarked. "We'll have plenty of time to learn that later."

He took the handkerchief away from his nose when it wasn't bleeding as much. Now it was Lily's turn to wince.

"How bad is it?" Severus asked, hoping it didn't look as bad as it felt. The last thing he needed was a visit to the Saint Mungos' Emergency Ward.

"I think it might be broken," she said apologetically.

"Fantastic, as if it wasn't ugly and crooked enough," he sneered depreciatingly. Severus wasn't one to care for his appearance or worry about how others perceive him, but there was still a part of him that was self-conscious about his least favourable feature. He was looking forward to the end of this awkward adolescent phase. By the time he got to be a wrinkly old man, Severus wouldn't care about his looks then.

"It's not ugly, Severus," Lily asserted. "Crooked, yes, but I think it gives a certain strength and character to your face."

'More like a bigger target,' Severus thought sullenly. He grabbed his school bag, getting ready to leave for a, hopefully, short visit to the hospital wing.

"Come on, Sev," Lily tried to cheer him up, "it's not that bad." She then stood in front of him as he was about to reach for the door. "How about a kiss to make it feel better?" she asked before pecking him on the cheek.

"Ow!" he cried out. Apparently, Lily kissed him where a bruise was starting to form. It seemed that today just wasn't his day.

"Sorry," Lily said bashfully as she went to opened the door for him. Together, they slowly walked down the corridor, and if Lily noticed his slight limp, she did not comment on it.

"I thought it was suppose to make me feel better," Severus mumbled in a disgruntled tone.

With a smile, she said, "Well, I guess my kisses are just not compatible with grumpy Slytherins."

He gave Lily a glare, which provoked her to hum a happy tune in response.

If Severus wasn't certain of it before, he was now: today was definitely not his day.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. And to answer a question from last chapter: the vampire Durkel will appear again in the future (just not sure how far into the future yet).

o-O-o

**Diagon Alley - August 17, 1990**

"Sir?" his assistant whispered from beside him. "Are you sure this is the right place?"

"I'm sure of it, Perkins," Arthur Weasley replied quietly.

As the only two employees from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, Arthur was in charge of searching and obtaining muggle items that were illegally charmed. Usually, those items would coincide with dark magical items, and he was then responsible for informing the auror office about it. Together, both groups would conduct a raid, which was the case happening currently.

"My informant has been watching this store for weeks," Arthur continued, "and he's someone whose been giving me information in the past for years."

Perkins shuffled his feet a little by the wall before speaking, "Well, it just seems strange that it is in such a... vulnerable location."

"Exactly," Arthur remarked. "The best place to hide dark magical items is in plain sight where it is the least suspected."

Their conversation ended there as they turned back to look at the heinous building: Tim's Toy Store.

The plan was that Arthur and his assistant would enter through the front of the store, while a team of aurors would go through the back. The raid shouldn't take more than an hour to finish if everything goes smoothly, and it was important that they find the illegal items quickly.

There were underground rumours of a wealthy pureblood seeking books on dark rituals. Anything pertaining to dark rituals were dangerous beyond comprehension, and it earned a wizard three years in Azkaban if found guilty of possessing such things. Apparently, those rumours had also lead him to this store which his informant had verified to be true. Arthur was certain that Lucius Malfoy was that 'wealthy pureblood', and he would attain proof of it somehow. No matter what, Malfoy could not be allowed to possess those books.

Arthur was then shaken from his musings when he saw the red flare of a sparkle going off above the store.

"Perkins, it's time," he notified the other wizard. "Auror Watson has given the signal."

His assistant nodded in assent as they both charged towards the building. Once through the door, they appeared upon the scene of mothers attempting to control their children as they ran amok the store. Toys littered the walls and floors, tempting the children to play with them and adding to the chaos.

The duo stood there awkwardly for a moment until Arthur delivered a loud coughed to get their attention. Heads swiveled to him, and he smiled politely at everyone.

"This is a raid to search for illegal dark items," he announced to the confused crowd. "Anyone not involved with Tim's Toy Store, please, vacate the area at once."

Most of the customers grumbled at the unexpected announcement while others whispered what a scandal this was. Mothers glared at him for the disturbance and children whined in disappointment, but they all eventually left the store, albeit slower than was normal.

While Perkins went on to handle the owner of the store, he wasted no time in sending spells out to detect any hidden compartments or an aura of anything dark. Arthur overturned shelves of dolls and flipped cases of rubber bludgers in his search as locating spells flew in every corner. As this continued, he could also hear the same thing going on in the back of the store from the other aurors.

More than half an hour of this later, it was quite obvious that there wasn't anything illegal in the building. Perkins was becoming anxious to find anything remotely dark, even going as far as confiscating a toy werewolf. Arthur was afraid he wasn't too far behind his assistant in that regards.

"Weasley!"

Arthur immediately turned to meet the irritated visage of Watson, the leading auror in charge of the raid group. The man's large form lumbered towards him as he straightened his back to receive the auror.

"What is the meaning of this?" Auror Watson demanded, his mustache quivering in anger. "There are nothing here but toys!"

"Th- there must be a mistake," Arthur tried to say. "My informant said that this was the location where the items are hidden."

"Well, your informant is clearly wrong," Watson countered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Now I will have to apologise to the owner for the mishap and report this as a failure on our part."

"But Watson-"

"Just gather everyone and get out," Watson said with finality before walking away to talk to the owner.

Arthur sighed in guilt and gazed around the store and at the mess he caused.

How could the information he received been so wrong?

o-O-o

**Malfoy Manor: Lucius' Study - August 18, 1990**

A look of concentration was mirrored on both their faces as they stared at the chess board between them. Severus sat across from the Malfoy lord as he planned his next move. This was a game they both excelled at, yet it seemed his mind just wasn't into it today, and the evidence of that was laying in broken pieces near the side of the board.

"You know, if you're going to play this badly, you might as well spill whatever is inside that head of yours," Lucius suggested. "Perhaps then we can have a proper match."

Severus glared in annoyance at his friend, not wanting to admit anything, but he knew that it was useless to deny it. Eventually, the potions master conceded with a sigh before giving a one word reply.

"... Lupin."

The other wizard raised a brow at his succinct answer.

"Lupin," Lucius repeated pointedly, waiting for clarification.

Severus didn't bother to expound any further on the subject.

Lucius rolled his eyes at that. "I assume from your sulking that Lupin has accepted the offer?"

"I am not sulking," Severus refuted. He was merely thinking over Lupin's stay at Hogwarts in the foreseeable future. That was all.

"Well, it's not unexpected," the Malfoy lord continued, ignoring his comment. "The wolf needs all the help he can get now to support himself."

"I believe his decision had more to do with whom he had to tutor rather than the financial benefits," Severus said while his rook moved to avoid capture.

Lupin may be poor, but the man cared more for sentimental connections than anything else. A trait he always hated about the man.

"Then you are worried that his interest in Potter can be detrimental to your relationship with the boy," Lucius stated with certainty.

"What? That's not it at all," he said immediately. 'Where does Lucius conjure these absurd ideas?'

"Of course, it's not," Lucius placated unconvincingly as his friend's knight moved to crush a pawn.

"It's not, Lucius," Severus adamantly reaffirmed. He wouldn't even consider such a thought since that would imply that he felt threaten by Lupin's presence, which was undoubtedly not true.

"Whatever you say," Lucius responded with a smirk.

"Enough about that - Now tell me what's on _your_ mind?" Severus questioned, instantly changing the topic. "You've been unbearably cheerful since lunch."

"Have I?"

"Disgustingly so," he added.

Ignoring his comment once again, Lucius went on. "Perhaps it may appear that way on the surface, but you must understand that it's difficult to conceal such elation when everything in life is going exceedingly well."

Severus didn't know what Lucius was going on about, but that didn't stop him from imagining ways to smack some sense into the man.

"What the hell are you talking about?" At times, it was best to be blunt with his idiotic friend.

"I speak of Weasley's ill raid on that toy store yesterday," Lucius divulged. "It was in the Daily Prophet this morning."

"Indeed," he replied neutrally. Severus had read the article and thought it was curiously careless of Weasley to act on such inaccurate information.

"Apparently, if it wasn't for that incident, Weasley could have been promoted," the Malfoy lord revealed delightedly, picking up a defeated pawn to examine it. "It is quite unfortunate that he received such _misinformed_ intelligence about the store," Lucius supplied with a cold smile as he dropped the pawn into the discarded pile.

The potions master gave Lucius a long stare, attempting to decipher any hidden meaning from his expression and words. After a while, Severus asked, "You sabotaged his chance for promotion, didn't you?"

His friend's lips quirked a little to the side in amusement. Yes, completely guilty as charged.

"I am neither confirming nor denying that," Lucius remarked, adopting an air of innocence which didn't fool him for a second.

In the years he had known Lucius, there had always been an enmity existing between his friend and Weasley. It was one where both group would either curse or belittle each other when given every opportunity to do so. Highly entertaining at times if he remembered correctly.

"You know, I don't recall any mentioning of why you initially despise Arthur Weasley," Severus voiced out while the pieces on the board prepared for a final showdown.

"I never told you?" the Malfoy lord looked up in surprise.

Severus shook his head. "No, but most people seemed to have the idea that it came about from some ancient family feud."

"That's ridiculous," scoffed Lucius, "as if such a thing can instigate my loathing for Weasley."

"Then what is the reason?"

By now, the chess pieces were grumbling in impatience as they waited for the game to resume. Sadly, they would have to wait a little longer.

Lucius reclined back in his seat with a thoughtful look in response. "Well... it happened before you attended Hogwarts. I was a first year while Weasley was a fifth," his friend began slowly. "At the time, I had brought my beautiful eagle owl with me - Tiberius was his name. Anyway, it was the middle of the school term when I needed to send a letter."

For some strange reason, Severus suddenly felt that he would regret ever enquiring about this.

"When I arrived at the owlery, Weasley was there with his pet cat. He was having trouble tying a letter to the school owl as I called Tiberius down to land on the perch," Lucius recounted. "I was about to take my letter out, but Weasley came over and asked if I could help him with his own owl. And being the gracious person that I am, I decided to aid the fool."

His brows bent at that. The potions master now had an inkling of where this story was heading, and it was not good.

"I had my back turned for only a few seconds before I heard the most awful screeching sound," Lucius described uneasily. "I spun around to the sight of Tiberius sprawled on the ground with that filthy cat latched on his neck."

His friend completely stopped at that point, seemingly distracted by the memory.

"And..?" Severus urged, needing his speculations confirmed.

Briefly shutting his eyes, Lucius breathed out, "I immediately rushed to separate them, but it was too late... Tiberius died that day, Severus."

Silence reigned as he tried to process the whole inane thing. That only lasted for a few seconds before he finally responded.

"You hate Arthur Weasley because his cat ate your owl?" Severus asked incredulously. "How is _that_ not ridiculous!"

The Malfoy lord glared at him and exclaimed, "Tiberius was a loyal companion, and that beast of Weasleys murdered him!"

He didn't know whether to laugh or bemoan the fact that Lucius could still hold a grudge after so many years over an owl. This was beyond ridiculous and bordering on psychotic... yet it was just like Lucius to overreact on the simplest of things.

Severus considered the other wizard for a moment while he mused over the story again. His eyes then locked with Lucius' as he asked, "Why was the bloody owl so important to you?"

Their gaze remained on one another before a reply was finally given. "Because he was my first friend," Lucius whispered out so quietly that he barely heard it. 'And you are my second,' was the thought he caught from Lucius.

Severus swallowed guiltily at the passive legilimency, while being simultaneously surprise and oddly happy with the revelation. Though he didn't know what to think about coming second to an owl. 'Perhaps some sentimental connections are okay,' he wondered to himself.

Turning his gaze back to the chess board, Severus lightly said, "I just have one more question to ask you: What has become of Weasley's cat?"

Lucius' eyes gained a gleam that the potions master had seen a few times when his friend got vindictively smug. The Malfoy lord leant forward in his chair and said with a relished expression, "I fed it to the giant squid."

Severus blinked. And he blinked again. Damn. If there was one thing Lucius was good at, it was getting revenge.

o-O-o

"Uh, Draco, are you positive this is okay?" Harry asked nervously, sitting as still as possible on the carpet.

"Of course, it's okay," he assured the other boy. "Father got these flying carpets from this wizard in the Far East, and they're charmed to not fly into anything."

Draco had snuck into the family storage room to borrow two of the carpets there. He wanted to try something new with Harry since they had already played snitch snatcher and wizard's chess the last time the other boy visited. Even though he wasn't allowed to play with these, Draco didn't think the carpets would be missed much... well, as long as no one found out about it.

"That does not mean that I can fly it!" Harry cried out as the carpet floated off the ground and began to move across the hallway.

"Don't worry!" Draco said, flying on his own carpet beside the other boy. "These two are twin carpets so yours will actually mimic mine. Besides, I'll only fly three feet off the ground."

Draco would be the one doing all the flying since his carpet was the dominant one, and Harry's carpet would just copy all his movements. Really, the other boy had it easy.

Their carpets continued to glide smoothly through the hallways with no trouble at all. As they flew, Draco finally spotted the stairs up ahead and grinned in excitement.

"Hang on, Harry!" he warned.

"Wha-"

Before Harry could finish his words, the carpets suddenly dipped, descending all the way down the stairs in a rushed speed. Their eyes widened with delighted surprise at the steep decline, enjoying the feel of the fall before they came to a stop near the end of the stairs.

"Wow..." Harry exhaled out.

"See? Told you it will be fun," Draco said with exhilaration. That was almost as good as riding a broom. Almost.

"Yeah... well, at least I didn't fall off this time," Harry joked.

It was then that a brilliant idea came to him, and he hastily landed his carpet before scrambling off.

"Wait a moment, Harry! I'll be right back!" Draco informed the other boy as he briskly ran up the stairs.

"Draco?" Harry called with confusion.

Draco sprinted down the hallway, glad that his mother was out today to not reprimand him on his behaviour. Arriving in his bedroom, he began searching under his bed and wardrobe, hoping the quaffle would still be in there somewhere.

'Now, where did I put that thing?' Draco wondered frustratingly as he dug through a pile of robes.

A few minutes passed and not having any luck with his search, Draco reluctantly turned to his last resort.

"Dobby!"

A small pop instantly signaled the arrival of the house elf. "Ye-es, young master? How may Dobby be of help?" the thing sniveled pathetically.

Draco looked at the stupid elf in distaste. It was dressed in filthy rags and covered in brown stains that he hoped was dirt. If that wasn't revolting enough, it seemed like the elf's large, watery eyes was just begging someone to kick it. Oh, how he wanted to kick it.

"Find my quaffle now - the one I got last Christmas and be quick," Draco ordered.

"Yes, Dobby be quick an-,"

"Just hurry it up," he interrupted before the elf could blather on.

The house elf snapped its finger, and his quaffle appeared before them. He immediately snatched it and left, not wanting to be near that elf a second longer.

'Disgusting little thing,' Draco thought with a sneer as he walked back through the hallway.

Once he returned downstairs, it was to see Harry still waiting on the flying carpet.

"Where did you go?" the other boy asked curiously as Draco approached him.

"To get this," he said, showing off the quaffle in his hands.

"Um... I can't see it, Draco," Harry reminded him.

"Huh?" he said. "Oh, sorry about that - it's a quaffle."

"Okay... so what are we going to do with it?"

"Throw it to each other, of course," Draco revealed in a matter of fact tone.

"Draco," Harry said tiredly. "I'm still blind."

"I know that!" he said indignantly. "What I mean is, I'll lightly throw it into your arms and once you have it, you can just throw it anywhere, and I'll try to catch it. The best part is that we'll be doing this while flying the carpet."

It really was a brilliant and wonderful idea, if he had to say so himself.

"Draco, I can't possibly catch it and trying to do it on the carpet is just impossible," Harry disagreed right away.

"Hey, you don't know that without trying," Draco persuaded. "Come one, Harry, it'll be fun."

"Draco-"

"Harrrrryyy," he whined the other boy's name out for as long as possible. This was how he got Harry to agree with the flying carpet idea in the first place, so it should also work this time.

"All right, we'll try it," Harry gave in with a sigh.

"Yes!" Draco cheered. "Okay, just sit back on the carpet and we'll start."

Once they were up in the air with their carpets, he readied himself to throw the quaffle.

"Ready, Harry?"

"Uh, do I hold out my arms like this?" Harry asked, extending his arms as if to carry a huge bundle.

"Yeah, perfect," he said. "Okay, here I go."

Draco pulled back his arm and threw the quaffle towards Harry, hoping the other boy would catch it, but it seemed he didn't hope enough. Apparently, his throw was not light enough because the quaffle completely bypassed Harry's head and into the direction of the wall... directly where his mother's antique mirror was hanging.

At a direct hit, the mirror fell to the floor with a resounding crash.

"Oh, no," he whispered with dread.

"What just happened, Draco?" Harry asked worriedly.

Acting quickly, Draco flew both of their carpets upstairs, thinking up a plan. When they landed into his room, he got up and pulled Harry to his bed.

"Draco, is everything all right? What was that noise?" Harry questioned, looking more confused than ever.

"Just stay here, Harry - your walking stick is on my bed by the way - and I'll be right back!" Draco yelled as he ran back out of his room.

He needed to go back down stairs to get rid of the mess before anyone found out. His parents would kill him if they knew he flew the carpet inside the manor and breaking the mirror with the quaffle as a result.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, the worst possible situation that could have occurred, happened. Draco saw his father and Severus standing near the broken mirror, examining it with perplexity. They then promptly turned their heads in his direction, noticing his presence right away.

"Draco..." his father sternly trailed off, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Sensing his impending doom, Draco blurted out the only thing he could think of to save himself. "Dobby did it!"

o-O-o

**Headmaster's Office - August 20, 1990**

If this was the day the world ended, Severus would gladly welcome it.

Severus had expected and hoped for this meeting with Lupin and Albus to be short and to the point. However, he should have known better than to think such foolish thoughts when the headmaster was involved in anything.

When Severus had first laid his eyes on Lupin, it was shock instead of irritation that arose. It had been over eight years since he saw the other wizard, but he never expected Lupin to look so... old.

Lupin was covered in graying hair, most of them sprinkled all over the man's head. Then there were the heavy lines under the eyes and near the mouth, as if someone had taken a brush to paint the lines on. It was obvious that the man's monthly transformation had not been kind to him over the years.

He had snapped out of his observation fast enough to offer the other man a derisive sneer in greeting, and in return, Lupin gave him a weak smile which just happened to increase his sneer.

It seemed Lupin's half-heartedness was still the same as ever. And it still irked him.

The headmaster, on the other hand, had greeted Lupin like a lost friend. Albus had pulled the other man into a hug and immediately dove into a conversation about Lupin's travels and daily life. It was a sweet and joyful reunion between the two wizards.

And it was almost enough to make him vomit.

Thankfully, soon after that they went on to discuss the precaution for Lupin's 'condition' and the arrangement with Potter's tutoring. It was agreed that Lupin would tutor the boy four to five times a week when the new term would begin. Unfortunately, though expected, that meant the man would be living inside the castle. As a result, Severus had made certain to place Lupin's quarters as far from his as possible.

Once their discussion was done, Albus had given Lupin and him a moment to 'reacquaint' and 'catch up' with one another. In reality, the headmaster had requested them to talk out any misgivings they had, in order to improve their _relationship_.

This was the situation Severus found himself in now: an awkward and uncomfortable silence. A few minutes has passed as he sat stiffly in his chair, while Lupin had attempted to gaze at anything else but him. It also didn't help that Albus was the only one enjoying the tense atmosphere.

Severus wouldn't have reluctantly agreed to this if he didn't know the office was sealed shut until the headmaster wished it opened again. Successfully locking him inside against his will. Damn, the old coot.

"Well, this has certainly been a pleasant and productive meeting," Albus finally spoke up, ending the stony silence.

'Pleasant and productive?' he thought in disbelief. 'More like painful and unnecessary.'

"Let us finish here and meet again if there are any questions," the headmaster said cordially.

At that, Severus nodded his head and swiftly stood up to leave. He was already out the door and walking down the revolving stairs before Albus could add another word. Escape was crucial in this circumstance.

It wasn't until Severus passed the gargoyle guarding the entrance of the office, that he noticed Lupin had followed him. He increased his stride to get away from the man as quickly as possible, but Lupin continued to stay a few steps behind him.

"Severus?" Lupin cautiously said his name.

The potions master pretended not to hear Lupin's call as he rapidly turned the corner, praying this would deter the man.

"Severus, wait!" Lupin called out, running up to him in a haste.

Turning back to face the annoying wizard, he yelled, "What!"

Taken aback by his outburst, Lupin stumbled out, "Well, I - Severus, I just want to thank you for giving me this chance."

He sneered at the timid behaviour. It was nothing more than feeble words.

"I know that we may have not gotten along well in the past, but I hope we can work together from now on," the other wizard confessed.

"Spare me the confession, Lupin," Severus spoke impatiently. "We both know the real reason why you're here."

"What do you mean?"

"You may hide behind that meek demeanor - the same demeanor that stood back as Potter and Black acted out," he said, ignoring the cruelness of his words, "but we both know what lurks behind that facade on the full moon."

Lupin's face paled slightly as the man tried to swallow uncomfortably.

"So no need to thank me when you are doing this for yourself," he explained, looking down on the other wizard with derision.

"No - no, I'm doing this for him," Lupin whispered before raising his voice in faux confidence. "I'm doing this for Harry."

"Oh, really?" Severus said in a mocking tone. "Are you certain, you're not just grasping on to the last piece of your little group?"

"That's not true - I care for Harry and-"

"Tell me, Lupin," he cut in, not wanting to hear the rest. "If you profess to care for him so much, then where were you as he grew up in that muggle house?"

"You know that I was traveling to find work, and that I was too busy to see him," the other wizard defended heatedly.

"Don't make me laugh, Lupin. In truth, you were running away," he said coldly, his sharps eyes pinned on the other man. "Too absorbed in yourself to care about anything else - just wallowing in your self-pity."

From this distance, Severus was able to hear Lupin's harsh breathing, and the potions master wondered what other reaction he could get out from the man.

"And you?" Lupin asked through veiled temper, fists tightening in restraint. "Were you not also drowning in the sorrow of losing everything you loved?"

Severus smirked at the other wizard's gall of asking him that, not phased at all by the question.

"That's one of the many differences between you and I, Lupin: I have never let it stop me, and I never claimed to care for Potter from the beginning yet not once visited the boy," he finished resolutely.

Lupin's shoulders slouched slightly at his answer, and he secretly enjoyed the look of hopelessness on the other man's face

"But what about now?" Lupin quietly let out after calming down. "You care for Harry now, don't you?"

At the question, Severus decided to stare at the other wizard silently until Lupin began to fidget in uneasiness.

After a while, he said, "Wait outside the potions classroom two days from now at 11 before noon. Don't bother showing if you're late." With that, Severus walked away without another word.

o-O-o

**Potions Classroom - August 22, 1990**

His first meeting with Remus Lupin would be in the potions classroom, since the professor refused to have 'that fool' in their quarters. Harry was seated at a desk as the Professor Snape explained about his new tutor.

"Potter, think of this week as a trial period," Professor Snape said once again. "If Lupin is in any way inadequate or simply dislikable, then it's no trouble at all to kick the man out."

"I think I got it, Professor," Harry assured, bewildered with the professor's protocol on how to handle the tutor. "You don't have to worry about it."

"It is not concern, but caution," the potions master corrected. "Lupin can be insufferably stubborn and obnoxiously righteous, so no need to be accommodating around the man."

"Yes, sir," he said, deciding to just go along with it since the professor always had a reason for everything.

"Well, let us get this done with," Professor Snape said as he stood up and left the room.

Harry waited in contemplation, curious about what type of person this Lupin was to incite such displeasure from the professor. Initially, Harry was nervous when he was told of his tutoring. However, having such low expectations on the tutor was strangely comforting. It made him feel at eased about his own performance.

He soon heard two sets of footsteps returning, and Harry turned in his seat to face them. It was quiet for a moment before the clearing of a throat broke it.

"Hello, Harry," a voice spoke up, "I am Remus Lupin, and I believe you've been informed of our arrangement with your tutoring?"

"Yes, Mr. Lupin," Harry answered politely.

From what he could tell, the man's voice sounded tired to him, but it also held an excited quality to it. As though Mr. Lupin was looking forward to something.

"That's good, but please call me Remus," the man said kindly, "Mr. Lupin sounds too formal and I-"

"Now that the introductions are over," Professor Snape unrepentantly interrupted, cutting the other wizard off, "I'll be with Madam Pomfrey to help with the restocking, and shall return in an hour. Potter, don't forget that we'll be dining in the Great Hall for lunch today."

"Yes, Professor."

"And Lupin, if you require anything, please do hesitate to ask," Professor Snape said irritably before leaving the classroom with a slam of the door.

The professor must really not like this man to show this much inconsideration. Then again, Professor Snape was this way with mostly everyone, and the only person he seemed to get along with was Mr. Malfoy.

"Merlin, he hasn't changed at all," Mr. Lupin muttered to himself.

Curious at the remark, he decided to ask, "You know of Professor Snape from before?"

"Oh, yes," confirmed the older wizard. "We were in the same year together at Hogwarts but in different houses though."

"I can imagine Professor Snape was in Slytherin," Harry said, smiling at the thought of the professor as a young student. He wondered if the potions master was really the same then as he was now.

"Yes, Severus was a Slytherin through and through back then... and still is," Mr. Lupin revealed nostalgically.

"Then, were you in Ravenclaw?" Harry had a feeling that Mr. Lupin was the studious type.

"Actually, that was a second choice," the older wizard revealed with a hint of laughter. "I was a Gryffindor."

"A Gryffindor? Does that mean Professor Mcgonagall was your Head of House?" Harry remembered her mentioning that she was also his parent's Head of House.

"Yes, and I was also-" Mr. Lupin suddenly stopped himself in mid sentence.

"Sir?"

"I mean, I was also a prefect in my fifth year," the man finished hesitantly.

Harry just nodded his head in reply to that and wondered what the older wizard really wanted to say. So far, Mr. Lupin seemed very friendly, but he couldn't help thinking what the man could have possibly done to make Professor Snape dislike him.

"Now Harry," Mr. Lupin said, "why don't you tell me what you know so far of the wizarding world?"

o-O-o

**Azkaban - August 30, 1990**

Sniffing the air for any scent of the guards, Sirius in his animagus form stealthily stalked over to the gates outside, the last obstacle to his freedom.

He had managed to allude notice so far, passing only a few wizards on duty until he reached the ground floor. Today was the perfect day for his escape since most of the guards were dismissed from Azkaban thanks to Fudge. In addition to no one watching over his floor, it had become an easy escape for him. Well, that and him going on an extreme diet for a month.

One thing Sirius couldn't get his mind around was that he hadn't seen a single dementor. It was peculiar how they hadn't been floating around to scare the prisoners lately, and he couldn't feel their presence at all, yet it was highly unlikely that they had left Azkaban. It was as if they had all disappeared with no one the wiser about their location.

Then again, why should he care? As long as they stayed out of his way, then they could do whatever they like.

Abruptly, Sirius stopped when he heard some people talking near the gates.

"Alright, Henry, but only this time, okay?" the guard grumbled. "I won't cover your shift the next time again."

"Thanks a lot, Ben," Henry said. "I promise that this will be the last time."

The two talked for a while more before one of them opened the gate. Then both of the guards walked out, leaving the entrance ajar. Seeing this as his chance, Sirius quickly ran over and dashed through the opening. He continued running, not turning back for anything since the fear of capture was to near for him to even consider stopping.

Sirius didn't know how far he ran, his mind only concentrating on getting away as fast as possible, but he soon reached the end of the island when there were no more ground to run on. He stood there panting while staring out into the vast scenery, awed at the magnificence of it. And without another thought, he leaped into the sea.

'Freedom!' Sirius screamed happily in his mind.

Finally, after all these years, he was free from that wretched prison. Free from the stupid stone walls, free from the cruddy bed of hay, and free from the lousy food. He was finally free.

However, shock soon replaced his happiness as he submerged in the water. 'Shit! It's freezing cold!' Sirius thought frantically, trying to keep his snout above the water as he paddled.

Good thing he was still in his animagus form, but now Sirius had to swim until he was out of the wards surrounding the whole area. Only then could he transformed back and apparate away. Before Sirius could think anymore on it, a huge wave suddenly slammed into him, dragging him under until he had to break through the surface for air again.

Great, in addition to exhaustion and starvation, the frigid, cold water had to be against him also.

'Well, at least it can't get any worse than this,' Sirius said to himself agitatedly as another wave attempted to drown him.

No sooner had he finished that thought did the dark clouds above him rumble noisily. It was soon followed by the first few drops of rain hitting him on the snout and eyes before it completely transformed into a downpour rivaling that of a waterfall.

'Damn. I just had to say it. James always said that I tend to jinx myself with those words,' he thought miserably. 'But do I ever listen? Of course not!'

Now, with the determination of a stubborn hippogriff and the mood of a sour ogre, Sirius began his fervent swim to get the hell out of there.

o-O-o

**Hogwarts Library - May 18, 1977**

Remus winced in discomfort as he tried to place the tome back on the shelf above his head. It had been four days after the full moon, and his limbs were still sore from the transformation. He was accustomed to such pains, but that didn't stop him from wishing the aches away sooner.

With a tired sigh, he carried the remaining stack of tomes to the other book cases. Remus told himself that this was the last time he would 'volunteered' to clean up after his friends, and be nice about it; so far, this was the sixteenth time he told himself that.

Not watching where he was going, Remus inadvertently bumped into someone, causing all the books to drop to the floor.

"Oh, excuse me," Remus said as he quickly bent down to gather the scattered tomes before looking up. His eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of who it was. "Severus..."

The Slytherin boy sneered at him, lips twisted in loathing. Teeth crooked and yellow, along with pallid skin and lanky hair - he represented the perfect picture of a pariah amongst their peers.

Remus slowly got up and took a step back, abandoning the books in the process. Ever since that incident in the Shrieking Shack last month, Remus had been careful to avoid the other boy out of guilt and fear of condemnation. Besides for their lessons, he didn't interact with Severus any other time.

"Watch it, Lupin," Severus said, his form tensing slightly, "or else you'll hurt someone with your carelessness."

Remus instantly caught on to the double meaning behind that statement, and it saddened him to know that there were some truth in those words.

"Severus, about what happened last month-"

"Shut it," Severus vehemently spat out. "I don't want to hear any empty platitudes from you."

He swallowed nervously and switched his gaze to concentrate on the other boy's shoulder blade instead.

"No need to worry your little mind about it," Severus revealed. "You should know that I was forced into a vow to keep your dirty secret."

Remus mentally cringe at the reminder of _that_. When Professor Dumbledore had informed him of the vow, he felt both relieved that his secret would be safe and shame for feeling such a thing at the other boy's expense. In addition to that, a part of him still resented Sirius for the prank, but he hated himself even more for running away from the incident and pretending everything was all right.

"I never wanted any of that to happen," Remus whispered desperately, glancing up to show his sincerity. "I'm sorry, Severus."

"Well, regardless of what you wanted, it happened anyway," Severus said calmly, gazing at him through guarded eyes. "What you want changes nothing."

"I - I understand," he said dejectedly, accepting his judgment before bending back down to collect the books.

At that moment, Remus wanted nothing more than to be back in his dormitory; anywhere to be away from the discerning presence of the other boy.

"Belladonna Root," Severus spoke suddenly.

"What?" Remus blinked up in confusion.

The Slytherin boy glared at him, as if his question had just confirmed the stupidity of all Gryffindors.

With an impatient release of breath, Severus reluctantly explained, "Belladonna Root is one of the key ingredients in a muscle relaxant and calming potion. You should increase the amount of crushed roots in the potions, since they lose their potency over continual consumption. However, both potions are the most effective if you drink them before the _change_."

Remus stared in disbelief as he tried to absorb all of that in, but his mind still had trouble wrapping itself around an advice given by Severus.

"Why?" Remus asked quietly. "Why help me?"

"Don't misunderstand," Severus said sharply. "I don't want what you have to infect the rest of us. That's all."

At the reply, Remus smiled in self-depreciation because he knew just how truly _infected_ he was.

"Drinking those before hand should leave your other half in a better disposition," Severus continued. "Which is not that much of a difference, but it should still aid in you having a less than volatile temper during that period."

Severus' mouth then closed with a click, lips thinning in disapproval as if it pained him to say all of that. Without further a do, the other boy turned around and walked away.

Remus knelt there as he watched the Slytherin's back, rigid and stiff in obstinance. Very much like the person itself, yet he couldn't help but hope that everything would be fine between them someday.

"Thank you, Severus."

TBC

A/N: Just curious, but any other characters you guys will like to see in future chapters before Harry starts Hogwarts?


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